


A Lamb Amongst Lions

by BaberahmLincoln



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Implied Smut, Language Barrier, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Reader-Insert, no sburb
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-29
Updated: 2018-05-02
Packaged: 2018-05-04 00:24:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 32
Words: 76,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5312684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BaberahmLincoln/pseuds/BaberahmLincoln
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a world where a misstep can get you killed, one has to be conscientious of every move they make. </p><p>Alternia is a planet where barbarity never sleeps and those with morals don't last long. For a faint-of-heart human like yourself, survival seems near impossible. Every location brings with it new dangers, towering castles that house malicious masters, whispering meadows where the blood of martyrs paint the grass, and even a world beyond your own where you speak to gods you didn't know existed. </p><p>Your fate is an unpredictable path, and it's only a matter of time until this planet, and it's inhabitants, make or break you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. An Abduction

**Author's Note:**

> First Fic! I'm so excited to hear your comments about it! Please tell me what I need to improve on, and what you think I have covered. Thank you!

You were almost finished. Just a few more corridors to go after this one.

The wide expanse of the stone floor hallway was covered in rainbow bubbles and soapy water. You had in your soft hands an odd looking scrub brush which you used to make the stone of the castle floor pristine. As pristine as you could get it be. There were unknown multicolored fluids that stained the black stone corridor, and it had took vigorous amounts of scrubbing to even get them to fade. You felt you had been scrubbing the floors of the massive castle for hours trying to clean it.

At least, it had felt like hours.

The concept of time was pretty much lost to you after a few months of being taken from your home planet. For what purpose, you were still uncertain of. Work, was your best guess, or possibly cleaning, since that seemed to be all that you were good for. But if that were true, then why were there no other humans in the entire building? There wasn't a single one. But there were plenty of those . . . trolls to do cleaning and to work. Maybe a human like you did a better job? But that couldn't be right. If humans did a better job, why was there only you? Why was someone like you spared?

You continued to scrub the floor, pondering in your theories. There had to be atleast 100 of your species brought along with you when you originally got here. Why were you the last one left? You paused in your cleaning, a sudsy hand was brought to your face to thoughtfully stroke your chin. A human's purpose here seemed only to be killed by the master of the household. You had only met him once. Hopefully, that would be the only time you would ever see him. You had met him the day you were brought here. You recall it with dreadful detail. It was the last time you ever saw another human, or your home planet.

You had been thrown over the shoulder of a giant grey creature with orange horns and blue armor. These creatures seemed to be everywhere within your line of sight. There were frightened tears streaming down your face as you stared at the ruins of what was once your neighborhood. They were destroying everything. Broken glass and other materials littered the concrete streets. Everywhere you looked, people were letting out anguished cries as they were either slaughtered on the spot by these barbarians, or tossed onto one of their muscled shoulders. It was terrifying to watch. The grey monsters, offering no sympathy for your species, had quickly dragged you through a huge portal of sorts. They didn't waste anytime in bringing all of you through. It was on the other side of the portal that you got a first glimpse of the prison you were to, unknowingly, slave away in.

It was absolutely monumental. Never in your short life had you encountered such a spectacle. Even if you hadn't been that interested in architecture, no one could just merely glance at this place. The black stone walls stretched forebodingly toward the sky, father than the eye could see. The rooms weren't stacked perfectly atop one another, like you were used to. They looked as if the architect had haphazardly placed the stories in odd, cluttered, positions. However, it didn't make the structure any less awe inspiring. There were intricate heliotrope designs that wound their way into the volcanic glass of the windows. The windows themselves were placed in groups of twelve on the black walls, and embedded into the building asymmetrically. There were at least a handful of them for every story. The entrance door itself was a deep purple color, bearing over even the gigantic humanoid creatures that carried you. The building, all in all, was absolutely breathtaking.

But that didn't make the structure any less threatening. There, in front of the entrance, stood armored guards, much like the ones that were carrying you. They watched from their positions at the towering indigo door. They grinned wickedly as they let you and the other screaming humans pass through. Then you were thrown, none to gently, off the guard's shoulders and unto the tiled floor. Your already battered body protested at the harsh treatment, but you daren't complain. Your neighbors didn't have the same mindset. They screamed and fussed at your captors, inhibitions cast aside by fear. Confused, and rightly panicked, they started questioning why they were brought here.

"Why are we here?"

What do you want with us?!"

"You killed my daughter!"

Paying no mind to their startled screeching, they sorted all of you into a single file line. All of you inching closer toward a room with doors almost as large as the one you had just entered. The people surrounding you continued to scream until the unlucky person who stood at the front at the line was, unwillingly, dragged inside the aforementioned room. The guards let them pass, even though they were yelling and crying their lungs out every step. The doors abruptly slammed shut once the poor person was through them. The rest of you just stared at one another in mute horror, not knowing what to do. It didn't take seconds until you heard blood chilling sounds echo from inside. Human screaming, monstrous roaring, and a slamming echo boomed from the other side of the doors.

They dragged another person in, and everyone started noticing a pattern. A deafening scream, a roar, and the same clattering echo of a huge weapon. Whoever went inside, did not come back out. The humanoids were leading you toward your death. Your fragile frame was shaking like a leaf. You knew that eventually, it would be your turn to face whatever it was that was waiting behind the massive door. One by one, each person was brought, against their will, inside the door to scream their heart out until they were silenced with an abrupt slamming noise. This happened again. And again. And again. Until it was your turn.

Each person ahead of you that entered, had squealed as they were brought to die. You pulled your lips into a locked line. You knew you were going to die today, but you were damned if you weren't going to go with dignity. Your teeth clenched, refusing to open. You held your head high, no matter how much you wanted to run away and hide. You lived a life of cowardice and fear, it was time to grow a backbone. If you were going to go, you were going with your back straight and chin up. Your body still shook with involuntary tremors, but it couldn't be helped.

You were dragged harshly into the room by your arm, pain shooting straight through it, but you could hardly notice after you got a full look at what had been going on inside the foreboding room.

It was one thing to hear the destruction, it was another thing entirely to see it. Piles and piles of broken bodies lay on the floor, their crimson blood staining the walls, along with the variety of other colors that splattered every noticeable surface in the room. Their blank, lifeless, eyes stared at you in fear. The last emotion they ever felt frozen on their faces. They surrounded you, your neighbors, your friends, your whole town. All of them were brought undeservedly to an early grave. If you were shaking before, you were trembling now. It was hard to be proud, but you were not going to die like that. Not like them. Not with your jaw unhinged in an ugly display of surrender. Not with your eyes reflecting fear. You were at least going to be honorable. Something you never were in life. Something you should have been while the corpses surrounding you were alive.

You were rattled out of your thoughts by a deep rumbling chuckle that echoed above you. A figure, who you assumed emitted the chuckle, sat on a strange throne that was elevated in the center of the room. He held a giant, spiked club in his monstrous fist, which was coated in array of colors, much like the room. And much like the room, the primary color that embellished it was a sickening crimson. His horns outreached toward the ceiling, each was tall, neon orange, and menacingly sharp. They contrasted greatly against his ebony mess of hair, which was longer than you would have thought possible. Your eyes lowered to his lips, which were pulled back to reveal shark-like teeth when he noticed you focusing on him. You felt your heart stop, and quickly dropped your gaze to the colorfully splattered floor. Not daring to even breathe. You just hoped death would be come quickly and without prolonged suffering. And even if it didn't, you wouldn't make a sound. You would not give this . . . cretin the satisfaction of seeing you frightened.

You could feel his gaze sharpen on your small frame. You did not look up, not even when he noisily rose from his throne to give a bone-chilling roar. You continued to stay still, eyes glued to your feet. Even when you felt his footsteps vibrate against the floor, muttering words to you that fluctuated in volume in a furious taunt. It was all white noise to your ears. You still did not dare to make a sound. Even when a fearful whimper crawled up through your esophagus, you clamped down on it.

You could feel his shadow as it hovered above you. You must have seemed so small to him, so easily crushable and insignificant. The heavy breathing that reached your ears felt like the roar of a train engine. You were frustrating him with your silence. Through all the fear you felt, a sliver of pride manage to worm its way into your heart. It felt good to exasperate this murderer. Your pride was short lived, however, when he wrapped his curled fingers around your neck.

You could feel his cool breath fanning your cheeks as he held you up to his infuriated face. Snarling, he stared at you. His violet eyes not giving any emotion as your tiny (in comparison) fingers grabbed at his hands, silently begging him for oxygen. Your eyes teared up, much to your chagrin, as your lungs began to contract in resistance. He still didn't let you go. If you had the ability to focus at the time, you would have noticed his eyes going wide. You started gasping in vain as your eyes rolled back into your skull, your vision going black.

You felt the air give way beneath you as you were dropped unto the blood soaked floor. You could hardly care about how your lower half was slammed into the floor, as you greedily sucked down gulps of oxygen. You could worry about fractures later, right now, the air that hit your lungs felt heavenly. Even when the guards that were called to retrieve you from the apparent "throne room" carried you away, you still kept silent. Save for your deep inhalations.

The handful of neighbors that were scheduled to be slaughtered after you frantically called out your name. They asked what you did to be spared. They begged with a frantic key in their voice that made your oxygen-starved head spin. You wished you could give them an answer. Even then, you didn't know what you did.

The guards promptly gave you to a group of servant trolls, who, rather confusedly, gave you tasks to do in order to keep from, hopefully, being culled like the rest of your town. Such tasks included cleaning, which brought you to where you were now.

But none of it explained why you were here, and why there were no others like you. Every being here had grey skin, horns, and an awful attitude. You had none of those things. You wished someone would show you atleast an ounce of kindness. Human's need social interaction to live. You were rather lonely in this place. Companionship of any kind would be appreciated. Even one of the servant trolls, who always seem either paranoid or depressed, would be better than sitting here, pitifully scrubbing the floor without anyone to even say hello to.

A black boot stepping on your outstretched hand interrupted your sorrowful thoughts. With a squeal you jerked your pinned hand, and peered up at the troll who thought it would be great fun to torment you. The thought of companionship had apparently jinxed you. A troll with a teal scarf and a shark-like grin looked down upon you. Oh no. This guy again. Didn't have better things to do with his time than to harass you?

He always seemed to go out of his way to torment you while you were trying to get things finished. It had started when he tracked filth in on the floors you had just cleaned. You, in a rare show of bravery, had chastised him for ruining all your hard work. He apparently didn't like that and retaliated by hiding your cleaning supplies the next night. It only got worse and worse as the as the nights went by. You honestly had no clue what this guys problem was. It was getting on your nerves, but daren't say anything again. The sharp teeth in his grin looked to be enough to kill you.

Despite your pained cries, he continued to stomp on your hands, almost savoring the whimpers you let out. With the wicked smile never leaving his face, he hissed a low insult at you. You didn't know why he bothered; you couldn't understand a word he said. He reminded you of a rabid cat you had once found in an alleyway back on Earth. He still continued to crush your poor fingers under his weigh, ignoring the pathetic screams you began to let out.

Okay, he might have teased or mocked several occasions, but this was taking it to far.

Your eyes welled up as he refused to move, not even as you tried to shove his muscled calf off of you. Your fingers were going to break under his weight if he kept this up. Then what you were going to do? You couldn't clean with a broken hand. Clenching your teeth, you tried to blink away the salty liquid that was forming in your tear ducts. You refused to shed tears over this bully. Yet, it was no use. They streamed down your cheeks anyway. You turned your head away from your perpetrator, not wanting to have another excuse for him to berate and demean you.

Suddenly, his weight vanished from your fingers completely.

The grinning teal-blood had been thrown across the room and landed with a horrid thud against the stone walls. You could almost feel his bones crunch in agony as they broke. His usual grin had been smeared off his face and replaced with a permanent look of frozen terror. One that was much like the look that had been tattooed on the faces of your fellow humans many, many months ago. There was a disgusting squelching sound as he slid from where he was slammed into the wall down to the floor. There was a turquoise splatter just above the area where his shattered body lay. He was dead. He was dead and you saw him pass. You wish you could say that you were happy that he was gone, but his face brought back to many painful memories. That look of horror and fear was going to be etched in your brain forever. But . . . how was he killed?

The deep growling that sounded high above your sitting form made you freeze. Oh no. It couldn't be who you thought it was. Your eyes slowly trailed up to see the paramount form of the master of the household, an aquamarine fluid coating his gargantuan hands and claws. His chest heaved in the effort to inhale and exhale, and his eyes were a startling amber hue. With his eyes still focused on the dead troll on the floor, he aimed snarl in the still body's direction.

He'd killed the troll who had been tormenting you.

But the question was, why did he?


	2. A Friend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You find something extraordinary. A new friend.

Three nights.

It and been three nights since the master of the household had slaughtered someone in your honor. It had also been three nights since you last slept.

It had been a while since you were lay awake on the straw mat you rested on. Or had been trying to rest on. You remembered the first time you were introduced to the less than comfortable sleeping quarters. Those were instances similar to the ones you found yourself in now. The much staler images of your neighbors frozen faces had burnt themselves into your psyche. You had cried yourself to sleep that first night for fear of the monster who'd nearly choked you to death would come to finish what he started. You shuddered. It wasn't pleasant to remember those things. The nightmares that had followed your sobbing fit weren't a walk in the park either. They always involved someone's hands around your neck. Whether it be the purpleblood who ran the house, the newly deceased tealblood, or even on occasion the disconsolate corpse of a person who had died in the God-forsaken death room. You had always woken up the same way; gasping for breath while holding your throat with a delicate touch. 

Now the nightmares had unfortunately returned. You would rather take more sleepless nights than have to suffer through the horrible terrors of your unconscious state again. Contrary to your wishes, the nightmares returned. On the positive side, the hands that had decided your throat was good choking material had disappeared. On the pessimistic side, instead of gasping awake from your nightmares, you went to full on screaming. Sometimes one of the kinder servants was sent to your room the subdue your screams. 

The dream that transpired this night was something you couldn't even try to decipher the meaning of. You were wrapped in chains with red dripping down your face like a pagan offering. The detached bones of trolls and humans alike strewn about the throne room you were in. However, you were not alone. He, as usual, was sitting upon his blood spattered throne. His expression was hidden from your blurry vision as you as struggled against your chains. You might not have been able to see his face, but his body language told you that he was tense and distressed. A sharp tug above you caused your head to lift. Standing on either side of you were two figures, taller than even the monster seated before you. They seemed to radiate unimaginable power. They both clutched the end of your chain. With a constrained synchronization, they offer the end of your chain to your would-be murderer. You watched flabbergasted as the monster before you gripped his hair in an obvious sign of stress. The sharp, heavy metal was cutting into your fragile skin, but no troll in the room seemed to care. The dream had ended with blood pouring from the ceiling, showering you and the apparently catatonic demon clown in a horrifying array of colors. 

During the time you had to work, you avoided the the master of the castle as much as possible. If it meant you had to skip an entire corridor you were specifically assigned to clean, so be it. Avoiding your problems had become a specialty of yours. Lately, you found yourself glancing over your shoulder more often. Always checking to see if his dominating figure was watching. It always felt like he was watching. You felt yourself growing more and more paranoid as the nights stretched on.

Then one day, after a particularly horrible dream, you found something . . . truly outré.

. . .

A friend.

You had met him after you had had woken up dreaming from a particularly horrible nightmare. He was one of the servant sent to calm down your screaming fits before you woke the rest of the servants. The colors he wore were a dull black, outlined with an outlandish russet tint. It was a rare color you had not seen around very much. He had a very recherché face. You had never seen such menacing teeth attached to a kind smile. You had also never seen such a happy expression on one of these creatures before, they always seemed to have they're teeth curled back in a threatening display. It was refreshing to see a new expression.

Best yet, he actually comforted you. It was the strangest phenomenon. Normally when they sent a servant to shut you up, the servant would keep their distance. Occasionally, you got a hand on the shoulder and a stern pointer finger over the mouth. It normally did the job, but you still felt disturbed from your nightmares. You had been met with nothing but cruel and indifferent treatment since you got here, but then came along a total stranger who treated you with a cautious respect. Maybe these creatures were capable of kindness. He could be a complete psychopath, but as long as he was friendly to you, you were completely willing to enjoy his company.

Then you found out the most extraordinary thing. 

You could understand him.

You could barely contain your zealousy. Most of the trolls who lived and worked about the . . . hive (which he told was the word they used for house) spoke in a low, thick growl so deep that their words were white noise to your ears. Your new friend, Cygnus, he said his name was, spoke in a high enough tenor voice that your human ears could understand his words. He growled his words too, it seemed all trolls did, but he spoke lightly, in consideration for you, to make out the words he told you. Even if you were grinning to wide to respond to him. 

"So . . . what kind of creature are you?" He asked you with skepticism. Staring at your white, dull teeth whenever you smiled. He said he had never seen anything like you before. He'd come there in the first place to ask you about that, comforting you after a nightmare had provided the perfect opportunity. "Tell me, what'd you do to have The Grand Highblood following you all the time?" While doing his own duties, he'd seen the giant troll trailing after you, watching your every move, while carefully avoiding your line of sight. It was startling to see him out of the throne room without a spiked club in his fist.

You froze. You really hoped the Grand Highblood wasn't who you thought he was. It couldn't be him, could he? The monster who killed everyone you had ever known. The one who nearly choked you to death, then for some odd reason, spared you. It couldn't be him. With chattering teeth, you questioned Cygnus who The Grand Highblood was, not caring about how foolish you sounded to the troll who probably thought you were less than intelligent.

He scoffed, "How can you not know who he is? He follows you like a colossal shadow! Let see, how can one describe The Grand Highblood? Oh yeah, he's a capricious clown worshipping subjugglator who's taller than the two of us combined!" He playfully snarked at you, unknowingly confirming your worst fears. Taking a shaking breath, you hugged yourself tightly, not wanting to continue the conversation.

Cygnus noticed this, and his brows furrowed, lips tightening into a unhappy line. He seemed vaguely distraught with your discomfort. You could see determination echoing in his russet irises. Cautiously, he reached his sleeved arm out in your direction, hesitating, before eventually hugging your shoulder. It was comforting, if not a bit awkward, but you were grateful for the soothing gesture anyway. You felt so starved for physical contact. You smiled at him, showing your appreciation. He grinned back at you, revealing his rows of sharp teeth. It felt nice to have a friend, after what felt like an eternity of loneliness. With a satisfied yawn, you patted your new friend's shoulder and decided to go back to sleep. You could answer whatever questions he had in the evening. Cygnus was ready to protest, but paused for a minute, and silently stalked toward the door, still filled to brim with curiosity about you. You were sorry you left his questions unanswered, but there would be hell to pay if you didn't show up to do the work you'd been assigned tomorrow morning. Without another thought, you drifted off to sleep. Surprisingly, no nightmare plagued you that day.

...

You felt like an owl. A very tiny, paranoid owl.

With your mind and body well rested, you were more alert to the sounds that occurred in the hive. Everything felt like The Grand Highblood was coming to get you. The wind that patterned against the windows you cleaned sounded like the angry clicking in his throat. The slamming of a heavy iron door sounded like his club against stone. The draft that you felt when a fellow servant ran by felt like his breath. Your head was swiveling left and right looking for some evidence that he was there. Your poor neck was starting to ache.

The good thing was, you were doing your work faster than what was normal. Without the pestering of the tealblood everywhere you went, the time seemed to fly by. It was almost enjoyable without him coming to pester you. Key word "almost." The anxious feeling of someone watching your every move still didn't leave. Despite your shaking hands, you had already finished half the corridor. It was satisfying to see the progress you made. Even though you knew you'd have to re-do it all over again the next night. Trying your hardest to not let your paranoia consume you, you continued to scrub the floor.

You pondered while you glossed over the floor, it was becoming a habit. But the hallway was silent, and who would prey on thoughts? Who could prey on your thoughts? Now that no one was here to interrupt you, you let your thoughts consume you.

Your questions were never answered from yesterday. Why did the Highblood kill for you? An insignificant human? One his servants at that. You didn't own him anything. You weren't anything of value to him. Wait, that wasn't exactly true. If you weren't anything of value to him, why did he spare all those nights ago? He could easily have killed you, why didn't he? You began to grow frustrated, why didn't he? You had every right to join your friends and family in death instead of suffering here unwanted and unable to understand anyone.

You grit your teeth, throwing your sponge down in a pathetic display of rebellion. You knew you were being petulant, but you couldn't help yourself. You felt your vision blur with tears. What had you done to deserve this? Why did you have to the one to live, why couldn't some other human been chosen? Why did you have to live with these trolls who never so much as looked at you?

A sharp hiss cut off your thoughts. Your head shot up, looking for the source from which the sound emanated. Drying your tears, your vision cleared and and you spotted a familiar figure peeking around the corner. Suddenly you regretted the things you thought about being lonely in this place. There stood Cygnus, constantly glancing over his shoulder and grinning at you, gesturing you over with his hand. He seemed excited, if not nervous. With your embarrassing tantrum over with, you were suddenly filled with curiosity.

Rising from your knees, you scampered over to him, careful to not make a sound. When arriving to the end of the corridor where he stood, you arched an eyebrow. Playfully putting your hands on your hips, you tapped one foot. Why did he interrupt your assignment for today? Hopefully he didn't see you throwing a childish fit over the depressing state of your life. Despite knowing him for less than than two nights, you knew his personality enough to know he was up to something. Sometching mischievous.

With a grin stretched across his face, he gently grabbed your wrist and tugged you down the uncleaned hallway. Looking over his shoulder occasionally, he continued to smile as he tugged you down corridor upon corridor. Some of which you'd never seen before. But before you could properly examine your whereabouts, and why you were in them, he shoved you through a rather small doorway. Large by your standards, but smaller than the ones you had seen in the hive where you worked.

Before you could chastise him for pushing you, you were interrupted by a grumbling purr. Turning your gaze to where the sound emanated, you were greeted by the sight of a large bug with a troll head being cut open. The thing was like the size of your arm. Disturbed, you glanced up to find the troll who decided it would be a good idea to spill the blood of such a weird creature.

The troll growled again, but you felt they meant no harm toward you. Just that they wanted your attention and your understanding. Staring at the troll you dragged you here, you asked him for a translation of the words spoken to you.

"They asked if you would like to be their assistant in the kitchens. Their other assistant, a teal blood, was killed a few nights ago, not sure why though. Anyway, they're looking for a replacement. They first asked for my help, but I know little to nothing about cooking, so I declined and brought you here, knowing that even if you don't know the first thing about cooking troll food, you can at least avoid being stalked by The Grand Highblood. Pretty clever, right?" He grinned wickedly, proudly puffing out his chest.

You mimicked his smile. You could cry you were so delighted. Not long ago you were lamenting the pitiful state of your existence. Now that things were clearing up, you'd no longer have to feel that monster's imaginary eyes crawling on your back. You can avoid other trolls and their cruel sneers by hiding in the kitchen and simply doing your job.

You looked at Cygnus, seeing him in a different light for the first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so what do you guys think of this new character? Do you want to see more of him? How about another one?


	3. An Invasion

Everything seemed perfect.

In the following days your paranoia had vanished, and your mind was at peace. The kitchen was a surprisingly peaceful place. Nothing could compare to the familiarity of the scents surrounding you, the tickling of exotic spices against your nose, the crackling of cooking meat, and the pleasing sight of a freshly prepared meal. Nothing bad could happen that could quell your happiness.

However, it turns out you were wrong in your earlier assumptions that you could hide from the other trolls when it came to your new job. No, it turns out, you had to come into constant contact with them. That wasn't always a bad thing. There was always someone who had their stomach empty, and would rifle through whatever you had created to shovel down their respective throats. It was almost encouraging to see them thoroughly enjoying what you had created. Some of the more polite ones gave an incomprehensible purr before leaving. Not even pausing to wash their hands before dashing out the door. All kinds of trolls came through the kitchen, from the child-like new servants, to the most broad shouldered, experienced guard. 

It felt like you had seen every troll to ever work and live in the hive. You even gave a curt greeting to a few, however they never responded. Maybe they nodded at you if they felt considerate, but never responded. When Cygnus came to get whatever he needed, you always ducked your head and gave a shy wave, chastising yourself for not giving an actual greeting. The consideration he showed you when he gave you this job made your heart flutter every time you saw him. However, you were too shy to inquire why he decided to show you such kindness. The rest of the staff was content to ignore you. Which, in all honesty, was fine by you. You saw them, but they never saw you. There wasn't a troll in the hive who didn't come into the kitchen. All except one.

The Grand Highblood.

That was how you found out what the long dining table you used to clean was used for. Every time he wanted a meal, he would sit himself down in the massive chair on the end and slam the surface of the table, "politely" alerting the cooking trolls that they were needed. If he were especially impatient that day, he would give a thunderous roar into the air. You didn't know what it meant, but it made the other kitchen servants flinch. So with great haste, you and the rest of them would grab as many food-filled plates as possible and scurry to the dining hall, where the Highblood was so patiently waiting. 

You remembered the first time you were told that he had to have his meals served. You felt bad for the serving trolls in charge of that operation. What if he didn't like what they fixed up? Would they lose their lives because he was craving something different than what they served? What if he was craving fish and they decided to serve him beef? Would they die because they failed to satisfy the pallet of the Grand Highblood? You were silently grateful that you just cooked the meals instead of serving them.

It turns out, those who cooked in the kitchen also served the meals to the Highblood as well.

You felt your breath quicken uncontrollably. It was just your luck. When life was starting to look up, life decided it was time to pull out the rug from underneath you. You had been doing nothing but avoiding him as much as possible these past few nights, and now they wanted you to come directly into his line of sight? Were they crazy? You made an indignant expression, knowing it was useless to argue if they couldn't understand you. You found yourself wishing Cygnus were here so he could translate your words. You wish Cygnus could constantly stay by your side, then quickly revising that thought in your head. He couldn't, you knew he couldn't. It was useless to think so. 

The troll in charge of serving flouted your expression and nudged you toward the table where he was irritably waiting, drilling his claws against the expensive wood of the table. You could see the snarl forming on his curled grey lips. Taking a deep breath you lead the way. You laid the massive plates you held in your shaking arms onto the table with a gentle clatter. You were surprised you didn't drop any with how badly your hands were shaking. You didn't need to look at the troll at the end of the table to know he was watching you. It was humiliating as it was terrifying. You knew he recognized you. You wondered how long it would take for you to die by asphyxiation. You managed to escape the first time, you doubt you would be so lucky this time.

With a deep breathe, you finished setting the feast out on the table. Risking a glance at him out of the corner of your eye, you were shocked to find he looked . . . relieved? Turing your head down the other end of the table, trying, hoping, to see if he was staring at something else. Alas, his gaze never wavered from your shivering form. Why was he giving you that look? Why would he be relieved about you? The expression changed his face dramatically, he almost looked . . . handsome without agitation scrawled across his visage. Handsome as an aggressive murderous alien could be. It was almost comforting to see the monster was capable of such emotions. The anxiety of being in potential danger began to leave you, and you felt yourself growing more at ease in his presence. Your turned your head to look at him square on, curiously inspecting why he might feel such solace because of your presence.

It suddenly hit you. You were assigned to a new duty. You were now in the kitchens, and he must have been unaware of the update. He must have felt distressed whenever he had seen the hallways that you had always cleaned to be lacking your person. Your disappearance seemed to greatly concern him. Cygnus had told you he had been watching you, but now you were given solid proof. And you weren't sure how to feel about it.

Several of your theories as to why you were here were answered by his expression. You were important enough to warrant disquiet concerning your presence in the household.

The concern on his face did nothing to quell your permanent fear of him, however. Your heart will always remember the death of your neighbors and friends. However, your head was beginning to forget their faces. The passage of time had made the memories of them foggy. It didn't make you any less upset about their parting though. Yet, the obvious worry for you was startling. Your thoughts was running rampant throughout your delicate head. Why would he need to be worried for you?

A whistle cut short by a clicked growl rattled you out of your conclusions. The troll in charge of serving was alerting you to their departure. Now, that you looked, the only one at the table was The Grand Highblood and you. The rest of the servants had already gone back to the kitchen and you were lucky that the one serving troll had stayed behind to collect you as well. Looking at her now, you could see the faint worry written on her face.

Looking back at the Highblood, he was grinning at your daydreaming. Your unease and embarrassment was evident as you followed the last servant back to the kitchen, the deep rumbling sound of the Highblood chuckling reaching your ears as you left.

Cygnus was waiting for you whenever you returned. He was flashed you a mischievous grin and beckoned you over, but not before getting scolded by the troll who escorted you back. Waving her off, he leaned over the table, flicking his eyes back and forth suspiciously at the remaining servants in the room, before his hot breathe fanned against your ear.

"I saw the whole thing. What do you think has got him so interested in you? I also heard that he had killed the chef's earlier apprentice, the tealblood, for your sake. But I bet you already knew that. But the question is, why would he do something like that?" he wiggled his eyebrows at you. You giggled at his antics, before shrugging your awkward shoulders. You really wished you knew the answer to his question. All you knew was that he spared your life, but you didn't know the reasoning behind his actions.

. . . 

It was late when you awoke. Not by a nightmare, thank goodness, but by the trembling hands of Cygnus as he shook you awake. He was constantly looking over his shoulder where you could hear the indistinct shouting of many frightened trolls. Fear and confusion was clouding your hazy mind, still not fully awake. Cygnus muttered something inaudible as he ceased fully rousing you, and slipped his arms beneath your knees and back. With surprising strength, he ran, carrying you away from where you were. Not paying attention to your squeal of surprise.

Wide awake, and clutching tightly to his broad shoulders, you looked around. Destruction was everywhere. Multicolored blood splattered every noticeable surface. Troll carcasses were haphazardly thrown against walls. Some of which you recognized, some of which you didn't. What was going on? Looking at Cygnus, he seemed to be avoiding looking at his surroundings, and continuing to run, continuing to find a safe place. A safe place from what though?

When turing the around the corridor, you ran into another fleeing troll. Shocked by the impact, you were dropped on the floor. Cygnus and yourself crashed to the ground, tumbling away from the other troll. Looking up, you were startled to find the troll that ran into you didn't work in the hive. He was completely unfamiliar. His ragged grey cloak and clawed hands blocked your view of his face as he clutched his head, but you immediately noticed his vertical advantage and curved horns. You had never seen anyone like him in the hive. He didn't seem malevolent, but that didn't stop Cygnus from gripping your wrist as he stared at the stranger.

An infuriated growl coming from further down the hall caused the stranger to glance up, look behind his shoulder, and click a few intelligible word in Cygnus's direction. Cygnus responded in kind, his voice reaching a much deeper register than you were used too. The stranger, who seemed satisfied, darted down the hallway, his torn cloak billowing behind him. He growled something to the both of you as he ran, his voice growing fainter as he dashed down the corridors.

Cygnus picked you back up, and ran even faster down the hallway, looking at the trolls who passed the two of you more closely, and avoiding the bodies that lay against the broken walls. Frightened, you clutched him closer, this was giving you unneeded flash backs. You head craned to look at Cygnus and asked him what was going on. 

"That troll we ran into back there?" he hissed through clenched teeth,"he's part of a rebel resistance against the highbloods who are wrecking the hive as we speak. They're here to try and recruit lowbloods who are being treated unfairly in hives owned by highbloods. They also want to pillage the place. It's just what they do. I heard that Dualscar's ship was attacked just a few nights ago. The words that guy said to us were their motto, 'Long live the Signless.' For now we need to get to somewhere safe." he whispered gently in your ear, never stopping his feet the entire time he spoke. The action was so intamite it had made your forget to ask Cygnus how he knew that information.

Cygnus stopped running when you came to an empty hallway, there were no bodies, no blood, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Still clutching you tight, Cygnus still had a paranoid gaze for everything that seemed normal. You could still hear the sounds of fighting in the distance, and Cygnus's breath began to pick up. Looking over his shoulder, Cygnus sat you down carefully behind an exotic potted plant.

Bending down to your height from where you were sitting, he leaned over and whispered for you to say here until he comes back for you, no matter who might come by. You gripped his hand and asked about his well being, if he would be alright or not. He stiffened and assured you he'd be fine, before running off to where the fighting was heard.

. . .

Hours passed, and Cygnus stilled hadn't returned. You began to fear the worst. The only friend you had in this awful place, and he dies. You couldn't help but tear up at the idea. He couldn't be dead, he couldn't. If he dies, it would be as if you had nothing to live for anymore. He was the only friend you had in this wretched place. He couldn't die. The tears that had been built up in your eyes began to fall down your cheeks.

Your curled your knees to your chest and fell on your side. Your fragile head fell to the floor with a solid thunk. The change in gravity made to the tears fall in a different direction. You didn't bother to hide them, you had been through so much humiliation in the past few weeks, what was wrong with another sobbing fit? Besides, there was no one around to witness your tears. No one but the potted plant.

As if fate had heard you, you felt footsteps vibrate against the floor. They felt too heavy to be Cygnus's. They were probably his murder. They'd probably come to kill you off as well. Well, why shouldn't they? With all you'd been through, it'd be a mercy. Everyone you'd ever known had been killed, you'd been choked, harassed, seen the harasser dead, had to serve the slaughterer of your friends and family, and now the dearest person you had in your life had been potentially killed. If anything you deserved the peaceful embrace of the grave. Let the murder come, whomever they may be. You shut your eyes in anticipation, your fear leaving you for bitterness.

You felt the troll's shadow climb over you, his gaze most definitely on your pitiful form, you waited for the feeling of hurt to reach you. But it never did. A minute passed. Blinking open your eyes, you peered up at the probable murder.

Who you saw wasn't who were expecting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are heating up! Get excited guys. Apologies if the ending seems a bit rushed.


	4. The Asphyxiation

The first thing you noticed about him was his wings. They were huge and tinted orange, like an Cymbidium orchid. Like one of the vibrant flowers in your garden back home. They looked delicate and ethereal. It was a challenge to imagine him being able to fly with them. They looked more for embellishing his already magnificent form than for flight. His wings were just a shade lighter than the colossal bull horns sprouting from either side of his head.

His stern expression was a stark contrast to his lovely wings. From your angle down upon the floor, he appeared to have an aggressive face. Not as bellicose as the Grand Highblood, but enough to make you flinch away from him. Curling further in on yourself, you debated your ability to run from him, forgetting momentarily what Cygnus had told you. You curled further into yourself, knowing there was no escape from someone who could fly.

He seemed to sense your fear and knelt down, eye to eye with you. Without the height difference, you noticed the gentle tone of his russet irises as he stared. He was quite handsome, intimidating or not. You knew of this even with him being a member of another species. He had a charming aura about him, you could see it in the way he held himself. You could see it in the sharp toothed grin he flashed you. You could hear it the low murmur that you didn't understand. 

You could see it in the way his eyes widened in surprise as he looked at you.

He tilted his massively horned head at you, probably pondering your existence. You peered back at him, fearing you displeased him. He seemed like someone you wanted to impress, someone that you needed to like you. He seemed like someone you could place your trust in. 

He hummed deep in his throat, a sound unlike what you were used to. His voice was a new experience. The Grand Highblood's low rumble was like an angry thunderstorm, enough to shake your earth. Cygnus's growl, although faint, sounded clipped and hoarse, like sand had been poured down his throat. The winged troll had a low, stentorian voice like a truculent bull. Lilting and mesmerizing, you enjoyed every word that dripped from his grey lips. Every word you failed to understand. He had the voice of a hypnotist.

He reached a clawed hand, a hand that could engulf yours entirely, toward you. He did it slowly, as to not frighten you more than you already were. Patience was etched into every feature on his face. There seemed to be a deeper meaning behind his outreached hand, a meaning you did not question. He seemed to want for you to take his hand. For you to trust him. Everything was telling you to trust him. So you did.

Abandoning what Cygnus had asked you to do, you gently laid your frail hand into his calloused palm. He grinned at you. It wasn't the same as Cygnus's mischievous grin, it had a subtle charm behind it. A dangerous, manipulative charm that told you he would do anything to get what he wants. It sent a chill down to your heart.

With no effort at all, he picked you up from your curled position on the floor, cradling you in his muscled arms, holding you to his chest. It made you feel fragile and dizzy. You had been carried more times in one day than you had in the past ten years. You held no complaint, for fear of being brutally punished. The trolls size and strength often frightened you at times, but he didn't seem to want to hurt you.

You body jolted as he started running down the corridors. His wide strides effortlessly covering more ground that you could dream of covering. He seemed to know the layout of the hive well, almost as well as you did. He never stumbled or hesitated before changing his direction and sprinting down another hallway. This raised a few questions in your mind, but you didn't have the courage ask him them aloud. He seemed trustworthy enough. Maybe it was a mere coincidence that he knew the layout of the Grand Highblood's hive.

Before you knew it, the sound of combat and angry growling was getting closer. He didn't halt in his running, if anything he picked up his pace. You could feel your blood freeze in your veins. This is what Cygnus was trying to protect you from. Why was this troll running toward it? The feeling of the choking combination of regret and fear started piling up in your chest as he continued to run. The sound of clashing metal and screams drew nearer, like a tsunami wave. He still did not stop. The charming spell he had cast upon you seemed to crack the closer he got to the conflict..

You arrived at the dining hall, the same dining hall you had served the Grand Highblood in yesterday. It seemed to be a different world entirely. The noise of the conflict threatened to deafen you. Metal and iron colliding against one other like the horns of angry rams. The hissing and growling of furious trolls as they spewed insults at each other. There were so many you couldn't tell which was friend and which was foe. You desperately tried to spot your friend, praying he wasn't on the wrong end of a spear, arrow, or club. Tears sprung up in your eyes. If he died, you wouldn't know what to do with yourself. Where could he be?

It was all a blur. Trolls were moving left and right, and in every other direction imaginable. Everything and everyone was going by so fast, it was impossible to see a familiar face.

Except his.

Though the center of it all was the enraged thundering of the Grand Highblood, knocking out insignificant trolls like they were nothing but pathetic flies in his way. Even with your tears blurring your face, you could see the horrifying sunset of colors dripped from his club like a hideous mural of violence. He cared for no one's life as he swung his clubs left and right, splattering himself, the walls, and the bodies of his victims in their own blood. He seemed to be the eye of the hurricane of madness surrounding him. It was difficult to imagine him being the same troll who'd chuckled at you when you were caught in a daydream serving him just yesterday. He was truly a monster in this instant. A monster you had no intention of meeting.

Suddenly, the hands holding you disappeared only to reappear around your fragile upper vertebrae. With a choked gasp, you clawed against the hands constricting your neck. Great, just when you thought you had already escaped death by asphyxiation. Not budging, his nails continued to dig into you. Humiliation climbed its way beneath his hands into your pinched face, you were a fool to trust him. You were a fool to trust any troll other than Cygnus. And chances were, he was probably dead, like everyone else you had ever cared about. This day was bringing back way too many bad memories. 

The troll above you growled deep in his throat. His voice didn't sound so hypnotic anymore. With a flicker of your eyes, you realized he wasn't speaking to you, he was looking at The Grand Highblood, who, similarly to him, had a victim in his massive hands by the throat. With a sickening crunch, the Highblood had torn the unlucky troll's head off its shoulders, mustard yellow blood gushed unto the floor, like a golden waterfall. With uncaring disgust, he threw down the body in exchange for another unlucky troll with warm colored blood. He appeared to not have heard your captor.

The winged creature grasping your throat grew impatient. With snarl on his handsome face and a flutter of his butterfly-esque wings, you both were suddenly in flight. If his wings looked ethereal before, they looked absolutely enchanting now. It made you sick. The grey stone of the ceiling drew nearer to you as you could overview the battling trolls on the ground. The chances of you surviving from this drop dwindled into single digits. With a foolish look at ground, you flailed your weak limbs. You were not fond of the separation between you and the floor. You'd think you'd be used to it by now. The grip on your neck silenced any cries you would have made.

The winged troll holding you inhaled a giant breath, and roared like an angry bull. The raucous sound made you tremble and freeze your shaking arms and legs. By now the tears were coming full force down your face and you made no effort to stop them. What was the point anymore?

With a look at the ground, you could see The Grand Highblood, looking at the two of you, no, glowering, at the two of you. The troll holding you, confident now that he had the Grand Highblood's attention, gripped your throat harder, and gently shook his hand, enough for you to feel the violent jerking, but not enough to kill you. You felt you limbs swing like that of a ragdoll's. You let out a choked squeal at the sudden, unwanted movement, which seemed to be just what he was looking for from you. His grin was wide and terrifying, like he knew he wanted a reaction out of the unstable troll who could easily crush the both of you simultaneously.

You craned your head as far you could, trying to catch a glimpse of the troll your captor was attempting to taunt. It was mildly uncomfortable, and you could feel his claws dig deeper into you skin, but you had to see him. He's saved you before, why not now? He was your only chance of escaping from whatever intentions this malevolent troll had for you. You looked at your only chance of rescue, and almost wished you hadn't.

If he was angry before, he was positively livid now. You had never seen such him display such vividly red scleras. Nor bare his teeth with such ferocity it made you tremble. The newly painted club was raised beside his head, a unfamiliar threat on his lips that vibrated through your entire body. Even if you couldn't understand his words, the weapon at his side was a threat in itself. You honestly would rather have to face hitting the floor from this height and have to feel your bones break, than have you between a fight with The Grand Highblood and the winged troll currently choking you.

You closed your eyes, which were sticky with dried tears. Waiting for the impact of his slamming club. Or the last gulp of oxygen being denied from your lungs. Or the familiar feeling of falling through that air and your bones breaking apart the floor. All you knew is that you were going to die today. Whichever method of death was up to fate.

You were expecting anything but what happened. You were suddenly jerked toward the floor, along with the troll squeezing your poor throat. You let out an frightened squeal at the sudden movement, and your eyes shot open. You gaped at what your eyes were met with.

The Grand Highblood had the winged troll's foreleg in his heavy hand, clutching like it was a lifeline. You'd never seen anyone so determined before. From the wince that came from mohawked trolls expression, the Highblood was causing him quite a lot of pain. He held you away from where the Highblood stood firmly on the floor. He began to flap his wings desperately, like a trapped butterfly. He was desperately trying everything to get away from the very angry Highblood who dug his claws further into his clothed leg. He didn't appear to approve of the winged troll's insubordination, and let out a low rumble through his teeth, which you felt go right through you.

Whatever the Grand Highblood spoke of, your captor didn't appear to like it. His facial features twisted into a hideous scowl, his lip curled to reveal rows of sharp, gleaming teeth. However, he stopped his frantic flapping and sighed, exasperated. He lowered your shaking form from above his head and gestured you toward the Grand Highblood. Shaking you for good measure.

With a relief painted across the Grand Highblood's features, he stretched his other hand out toward you. But before your supposed "savior" could reach you, you felt the hand loosen around your neck. He would've had you safely cradled in his huge hand, if not for the complete disappearance of the other assaulting hand around your neck. You began falling through the air, not even having time to gasp for air as the shock of what happened reached you.

You could feel the crunch of your bones more than you could hear then, you knew you wouldn't survive another fall like the one you experienced when you first came here. There was a sudden rush of cold covering your still body as you faded out. The noise of the troll's quarreling grew muffled as your vision blurred.

The last thing you saw before blacking out was the winged troll's head being torn off, and the Grand Highblood's infuriated roaring over the noise of still going battle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright! Chapter 4 is under my belt! Sorry for the wait, Finals have been dragging me down. But! With winter break coming up, my writing process my speed up! Yay!
> 
> Also, I was thinking about doing a smut scene for this story, I won't say who's going to be involved with it though. ;)  
> However, I've never written smut before and I fear it may ruin the story. :/  
> What do you guys think?


	5. A Romantic Capture

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM SO SORRY.
> 
> I have no excuses. :(  
> It's about 1k shorter than I wanted it to be, and there is no smut (when I originally wrote it, it was awkward and it ruined the characterization that I had already set up.)
> 
> Atleast it's a little bit longer than my other chapters.

The first thing you noticed when awaking was the intense ache in your body. The second thing you noticed were the soft, if not bloodied, bandages wrapping around your torso, neck, and arms. The third thing was that you were no where near the servant quarters where you slept. In fact, the place you were located looked to be way to lavish to be located near the servant's quarters. The walls were a deep violet and decorated with colorful smears of blood depicting religious symbolism. However, the symbols were unlike anything you had ever seen in human religion. The ceiling stretched high above your head, similar to that of a holy sanctuary. It only reinforced the 'church' vibe this place had going on. The bed you were lying on was huge and ebony, way to big to belong to someone of the status of servitude. The air in the room smelled of paint and the iron tang of blood. Where were you? What had happened to you again? 

You backtracked, resting your chin against a bandage wrapped arm. Let's see, some rebels had broken into the hive, you and Cygnus were escaping and he had tried his hardest to hide you. You were found anyway and nearly asphyxiated. Again. But who stopped you from dying? Who put these bandages on you? Did Cygnus somehow survive the rebels, and revive you from death? But that's impossible. He, that you knew of, had no skill in doctoring. Then again, there were a lot of things about Cygnus that you don't know about.

You were interrupted in your pondering by the door creaking open. You swiveled your head toward the sound, and immediately regretted it for the pain that shot through you. You were surprised to find a jadeblood standing by the doorway. She had a young face and was carrying fresh bandages. Were these her quarters? Unlikely. She was undoubtedly a servant, like you. Yet, she was of higher status, even in servitude. 

She seemed surprised to see you awake. However, she said nothing to you as she removed your old bandages. She didn't even flinch as the wounds were revealed before you both. You on the other hand cringed away from the unsightly injuries. The hideous red swell of your skin and the blemishes of purple smearing across your flesh was enough to make you wince. Would you ever heal from this? The winged troll really did a number on you. The jade saw the reaction you had to your injuries and gave you a reassuring touch. As gentle as she could. Even if she was of higher status, she was kind to you. Which was a rarity in, and of, itself.

You gave her a weary smile as she continued to heal your broken body. You built up your courage and had tried asking her where you were, but were stopped by the strain of your vocal cords. However, she seemed to have an idea of what you were asking through your timid gesticulations. Leaning away from your injuries, she clicked deep in her throat as her answer, before resuming to rebandage your arms. You pursed your lips, wondering how to tell her you didn't understand her. 

She payed no attention to your further interruptions from her diligent work. Not even when you hesitantly tapped her shoulder, she just shrugged you off. Leaving you confused and frustrated. You needed to figure out where you were, and how to get back to your own quarters before you over stayed your welcome! 

You noticed she was nearly finished with alleviating your lacerations. You were running out of time. Fear completely eclipsed your go-with-the-flow nature and you frantically shook her shoulder. Ignoring the hurt that filled your veins, you begged for her attention. She gently took your hand and laid it to rest beside your freshly bandaged torso, giving you a stern look while she did so. You open your mouth to speak, but were silenced with another firm look.

When she was finished, and you had all but given up on your pleas for information. What was the use? She pulled out a vial from underneath the shawl of her black dress. The small bottle was filled with a opaque purple liquid, and bubbled whenever she shook it. She offered the suspicious drink to you, which you hesitantly took from her. It was safe to drink this, right?

You raised the vial to your lips, looking at her while you did so. She nodded her head in encouragement, eyes kind while she watched you. You tilted the drink downward into your mouth, letting it pour down your throat. You winced as it slid down your esophagus. It tasted the way iron smelled.

She giggled while you made a face, sticking your tongue out. With gentle grace, she leaned you backward onto the mattress you were on, your bandaged head resting on one of the downy pillows. Not bothering with struggling, because you knew she'd simply retaliate back with more force. You still wished to ask her where you were, but it appeared you wouldn't get the chance.

You were suddenly overcome with drowsiness. Your body was weighed down with heaviness of sleep. Your eyelids struggling to stay open. You struggled to stay conscious. What was in the vial she gave you?

You tried to rise from your position on the bed, but soft grey hands on your shoulders stopped you. With a moan of discomfort, you tried to fight the jade who was exasperatingly trying to get you to lie down. With a high click cut off by a short purr, she held you down in the bed until you no longer had the energy to fight her.

You fell asleep shortly after your tiring quarrel with the healing troll, much to her relief. She parted your side with a smile and a gentle pet on the head. With quiet steps, she carefully pranced out the room, shutting the heavy door behind her, being sure to leave it cracked in case the owner of the block was to return.

. . .

Your dreams were horrific.

The great hive of The Grand Highblood was void of trolls. However, the aftermath of their destruction reigned supreme. Blood was everywhere, and there was writing on the wall. In huge, cluttered, chicken scratch, the letters blurred together to write "IT WAS ALL YOUR FAULT." It was like a petrifying contemporary piece of artwork. Blood was everywhere, but where were the bodies? You searched the corridors, but found not a single one.

You entered the dining hall, but it was in ruins. It was but a shell of the glory you had once witnessed, the windows were broken and the tapestries had been torn to shreds. The statues that had embellished its grand appearance were broken into pieces and scrattered around the room. The table that had once stood at the center had been flung across the room, and in its place laid a body of a troll. Vermillion blood was leaking out of many untreated wounds on their body. You were too far away to recognize who it was, but you prayed it was not who you thought it was. Gathering up your courage, you walked over to where the body lay, glass and pieces of statue crunching under your feet.

A ragged sob leapt from your throat as you stared at the body of the dearest troll you had ever met. You knelt down beside Cygnus, paying no heed of the glass that cut into your knees as your tears dripped down into the floor. With trembling hands your cradled his head, being cautious of his horns, as you looked onto his face. He looked peaceful, a fact which you were grateful for. He didn't pass with sorrow, or maybe he did, but his body betrayed no such emotion. You gently ran your hands through his hair, which was matted and with blood. Suddenly his eyes blinked open. They had no pupils. Startled, you jerk your hands away from his head. You had to resist the urge to shriek when he opened his mouth. A waterfall of blood dripped down his chin and soaked into his shirt. Gargling on his own blood, Cygnus managed to choke out a startling phrase. "Flee quickly lamb, 'lest you be led to this lowblood's slaughter. 

The words weren't Cygnus's, the diction was too archaic. That much was clear, but the question was, what was causing his body to say that? What did the words mean? Everything started fading, but it didn't matter anymore. By the time the floor underneath you turned white, your frightened tears had blurred your vision so much you couldn't notice the difference. You wouldn't remember this when you awoke anyway. 

. . .

Warm hands gently shook your upper arms as you peeled your eyes opened.

Groaning awake you were met with the concerned face of . . . Cygnus?

Immediately awake, you nearly shrieked with the unexpected delight that rocked your system. This couldn't be, but you were not going to question it for an instant. You tried to sit up to embrace him, but he just chuckled and leaned you back down.

"Whoa, calm down. I know your excited to see me, but you can't strain yourself," he rasped in his tenor voice that adored so much. You were overcome with relief and affection, you could hardly contain it. You tried a different method to try and gain his affection. You opened your bandaged arms toward him, hoping that was an invitation enough. "You want a hug? Alright, come here, I guess you deserve it with what you've been through."

His arms felt heavenly around you. The lean muscles he'd gained from strenuous slave work did him well when wrapped around you like a comforting blanket. The hard plain of his chest felt solid against the soft tissue of your own. With your head buried in the crook between his neck and shoulder, he smelled like cedar and meadow grass, a lovely combination that could be no one's but his.

When he pulled away from the hug, he was giving you a peculiar look, but it was gone before you could blink. His hands rested on the uninjured parts of your shoulders. "So, any idea as to why they put you in The Grand Highblood's respiteblock?" You froze under the gentle pressure of his hands, mouth agape. What? No, that couldn't be. Why would they place you here? Did they know what would happen if he found you here? A servant in masters chamber? Who knows what punishment would await you if he found you here? You started to breathe swiftly and heavily, much to the concern of Cygnus. 

"Hey, hey, hey," he started, quieting his rough, tenor voice as he spoke to you, in an appreciated effort to calm you down. "I knew that when you had found out where they had placed you weren't going to be happy. Why do think I'm here?" he gestured to himself confidently, grinning while he did so. "Alright, now, I'm going to try to be careful, I know you're in a delicate state right now, but I need you to trust me." 

You gave him a confused look. What was he going to do? You tensed whenever he slid his arms under your knees and back unexpectedly. Your eyes widened with surprise, he was going to take you away from this place? His embrace felt even softer than the bed, if it were possible. You felt your heart swell as he held you to his chest. He gave you a cheeky grin while he did so.

He carried you across the room with ease, as if you were lighter than a feather. You both looked down each of end the wide hallway, there was no troll in sight, thankfully. With a sigh of relief, he hurried down the right corridor, to where you assumed the servant's quarters were located. You remembered the last time you two were flying down a corridor with you in his capable arms. He was much more careful in his movements this time. And you both were less panicked by the events occurring in the hive.

Every fiber in your being ached in some feasible way, but nothing could take away the exhilaration you felt from being in his arms. Especially since you thought him dead ever since the break-in had occurred. Nothing could compare to the happiness you felt when you were around him.

You pondered the weight of that statement for a moment. Your eyes looking off into the distance. It was true Cygnus had saved your life, and you were forever in his debt. But . . . could that mean you were possibly falling for him? He was member of a different species, for goodness sake!

You lifted your head from its position on his shoulder as he carried you. You took a long look at his face, the firm lines of his jaw, the small fangs protruding from his plush lips, and his soft geranium irises as they held such tenderness toward you. He was undeniably handsome. Inside and out.

It was very possible for you to fall for him. The kindness he'd bestowed on you, the dangers he'd put himself through just for your sake, you would not be alive if not for him. And surely he felt similar affection toward you? Why else would he risk so much for you?

Did it really take a near death experience for you both to realize your feelings? Maybe the raid that had transpired had an upside to it. If that's what it took to realize your feelings, maybe the hive being ruins wasn't as bad as everyone made it seem.

You noticed as Cygnus decreased his pace, the furnishings and walls nearing the servant's quarters were looking to be in better shape than the ones from the hallways you had just came from. Though the furniture and walls were simple and minimalistic compared to the ones in the classier corridors, at least they were intact. Upon closer inspection, they looked to be untouched. As if no one had any intentions of destroying them. The chattels closer the The Grand Highblood's room looked to have been dragged through all nine circles of Dante's inferno. As you drew closer to your awaited destination, the walls and furnishings looked as they did whenever you saw them earlier in the night.

It was then you realized the rebel's priorities. They wanted to convince the lowerblooded servants to join them in their reckless brigade, while simultaneously offending their higher blooded owners. Why waste their time and energy destroying the material objects of those they wish to impress?

Nearing his room, Cygnus slowed his pace. Even his extended stamina could eventually decline. You could feel the way his chest moved that he was needing a rest. You're added weight probably wasn't helping him either. The thought of causing Cygnus any discomfort made your lips twitch downward. Even if his gait had slowed to a smooth stroll, you still believed he deserved a brief respite.

You squirmed in his arms, as much as you could without your limbs screaming in pain. It was difficult to move with the firm grasp he had on your body, but you managed. You looked at him in earnest, hoping he'd put you down. Hopefully you could walk. You didn't think about that possibility when you began to protest against his hold.

"Hey, hey, what's the matter? Sick of being held this way? Alright, come here," he finished his statement with a grunt as he shifted your position, not quite catching the full meaning behind your struggling. You felt your center of gravity shift when he shifted your body to face him vertically. His left hand left the back of your knees in exchange for your waist, his right hand had remained on back, although the pressure was increased. The change in position had your face vastly closer to his, and you weren't prepared for the close proximity.

You stopped squirming. He was so close. Another few inches and he would be kissing you. His iris's gleamed fervidly as he looked at your embarrassed face. He seemed to have the same realization as you did. The edges of his lips slacked, erasing his infamous confident grin. The longer he held you like that, the more his eyes lost their playful glow and his cheeks gained more color. If anything, he seemed just as embarrassed as you, but he still didn't let your feet touch the floor.

"Is, um, is this any better?" His tenor voice shook as he spoke. He shifted his weight between his feet nervously. He seemed unsure if his decision was the right one. It was precious. He was precious.

You tilted your head, and felt your heart swell. He looked so embarrassed, you probably did too, but that wasn't going to stop you from what you wanted to do. You lifted a gentle hand from his sturdy shoulder and unto his grey cheek. His posture seemed to straighten when you made contact, and his hopeful eyes locked with yours. 

His cheek was smooth and warm against the softness of your palms. He seemed surprised at the gentle sign of affection. Then again, you were surprised by your boldness. Never the less, he was quickly soothed by the caring action. He leaned his heavy head onto your palm, emitting a soft purring noise from his throat.

You smiled at the tender moment. One unshared by anyone except the both of you. He looked down at you with kind eyes. Turning his head into your hand, he placed a chaste kiss onto your smooth palm. He rested his lips too long on the surface for it to be fitting of propriety.

You hardly minded. Being depraved of affection for so long had taken its toll on you. Trolls seemed more abrasive than humans, and it was rare to even see them touch one another, let alone share endearments. Perhaps Cygnus was just as neglected from devotion as you were.

With growing courage, you shifted your palm back into his ashen cheek and leaned forward in his hold. You hoped this was a good idea. You placed your other palm against the left side of his face, and leaned in, avoiding looking into his sanguine eyes.

His lips were soft against your own. Softer than you expected. But you didn't have time to dwell on their texture as you felt his hands grip you closer. He quickly kissed you back with fervor. Both startled and zealous, you felt his tongue slither in between your lips, quickly accessing every inch inside your mouth. Clutching him equally as close, you could tell his to tongue was much longer than yours as it greedily conquered your mouth.

As much as you adored the feeling of your adjacent bodies, your lungs were screaming for some air. You disconnected your needy mouths with a hitched gasp. A stubborn string of saliva remained attached to both of your quivering lips, much to the delight of your partner. 

With a wide grin, he adjusted his hold on your body. Now lifting you with one arm, he used the other to open the door to the quarters where he slept. You looked at him, feeling the zealous energy boil in the pit of your stomach. As he twisted the knob, he flashed you a charming grin, and it did nothing to quell the fit of butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

Carrying you in, you were sure to be prepared for whatever may come tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please tell me what I can improve on, and if you liked this chapter or not. And PLEASE be patient, I am trying my hardest to give you guys what you want.


	6. The Calm Before The Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is nothing but fluff. Oh my goodness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Valentine's Day!
> 
> Consider this my present to you guys! Even though it's short and hardly worth your time to read.
> 
> BUT . . . It is an update! So I ask that you enjoy!

The moonrise on this planet was truly breathtaking. The fresh wave of hues seemed to shimmer over the skyline. It was like an fantastical painting. What great celestial artist could have created such a spectacle? The stars seemed to waltz as they sparkled in the vast ballroom of space. They intertwined with each other in the most elegant of ballets. The twin moon's peeking over the colorful horizon beckoned the creatures of Alternia to leave their bed's to join their dance in all it's breathtaking glory. A cordial invitation to this rapturous ball. The contemporary colors made them a performance to behold.

However, you did not want to get up.

No matter how breathtaking the sky outside the window was, or how tempting the invitation was, the being asleep next to you was twice as so. He had yet to awaken, so you were content to gaze at his resting form as much as you pleased. The breaths he inhaled defined his muscled skin. His grey chest expanded and deflated with every deep breath. The proof of his existence beside you was more pulchritudinous than anything the Alternian skies could ever offer you.

The night time air flowed from behind the small window on the wall. It caused an occasional shudder once and a while, as if the outside world wanted a piece of the intimacy you both shared. The curious sky perused the both of you, unknowingly casting an ethereal light on both of your forms.

Both of your unclothed, vulnerable forms.

It then occurred to you the shenanigans that occurred in the day prior. After he had whisked you away from danger and into his own respiteblock, he had been upon you, encircling you with powerful arms and gentle caresses. He had embraced you when you felt hesitant, and had dragged you into his overwhelming world of senses and pleasure. Whenever you felt scared or unsure, he was there to comfort you with his wry grins and soothing voice. His anatomy had been vastly different than yours, which lead to more hesitance and questions. Cygnus was patient in his answering to the questions you had and to soothe your nervous spirit. After his rather . . . hands-on explanation . . . about your biological differences, you seemed just as eager as he was. You and your beloved continued your endeavors until exhaustion settled into your respective systems. You both fell asleep against each other, as close as your bodies would allow.

Even as you looked at him now, you felt nothing could separate the both of you. Not the night sky luring you from your bed, not the differences in your species, and not even the cruel Grand Highblood could keep him from your side. Although all of them may have tried, and will try again, they would have to kill one of you before you would be separated.

The stirring of the sheets beside you interrupted your contemplation. Cygnus's toned torso was revealed as the cream sheets slide down the expanse of his chest. The muscles in his body became more pronounced as he stretched. His back arched liked a cat as he sat up, and you couldn't help but appreciate the outline of his body, especially when the low light of the night reflected off his skin so tastefully. The rainbow of colors against his grey skin made him appear to be a work of art.

He and the moonrise were a beautiful image to wake up to. The feeling of sheets against your caressed skin was enough to make you stay in bed all day. But the sharp-toothed grin above you was enough to convince you to do anything. You felt you could accomplish anything were he by your side. Even now, with sleep glazed soft eyes, and body sore against the bed, if he asked it, you would bring him the moons to him.

You asked him if he would be opposed to rising with said moons.

He chuckled under his breath, the drowsiness making his tenor voice huskier, "As tempting as it sounds, I'd rather spend the entire day in bed. But as long as I'm with you, I don't think it matterswhat we do." He curled his knuckles under his chin, using the muscles in his arm to prop his cheek upon the distal side of his hand, skillfully avoiding colliding his horns against the headboard.

"So, how long have you been awake?" he rasped under his breath, giving you a lazy smile.

You pondered his question. It had been a while, but you weren't about to admit what you were doing while awake. No matter how breathtaking he was, he was going to laugh at you if you voiced how long you were poetically enraptured with how the light of the moons reflected against his skin. His deep throated chuckling would be aimed directly at your embarrassed form. It would be so humiliating. You doubted trolls even had poetry, they didn't seem to be the romantic species that humans were. Even as hopelessly infatuated Cygnus made you feel, he'd scoff at how pitiful your notion was. You doubted that-

Cygnus, upon noticing your distress, reached up to lay a calloused palm to the side of your face. The action itself was gentle, but you reveled in the feeling of his rough hands against your smooth skin. Upon turning your head to look at him, you were surprised at his expression.

It surprised you. All the poetic nonsense you thought trivial a moment ago, suddenly every word unuttered rang an undeniable truth. His vermillion eyes, each one was a nostalgic Earth sunset. The smooth hues of warmth gathering together to create a display of unbelievable beauty. His mouth curved into an endearing smile. You felt tenderness swell in your chest from looking at it. It was a pleasant change from the wide gleam of his trademark grin. Although, it did not make him any less handsome. Any smile he offered you were handsome in their own right.

You laid your own palm against his, continuing to admire him. With your other hand, you drew him forward.

He seems to get the gist of what you wanted to convey. His eyes lit up as he met you and kissed you with vigor. His arms abandoned your face in exchange for wrapping around your torso to bring you closer. He clutched your bare back, pulling you against his equally bare chest. He traced along the thin scratches jutting out from your skin, his smugness twisting his facial features into a grin as he reminisced the events of last night.

His body leaned forward, forcing your back into the bed. He hovered atop you, arms supporting himself on either side of your body. From the look in his eyes, and the slithering appendage between his legs, there was going to be a continuation of your endeavors last day.

...

The moons were high in the sky next time you awoke. A sharp contrast to the mood the evening had given you. While the gentle hues of the fading sun had signaled a salutations, the moon's intense colors peered through the window in an almost arbitrary manner. Though the sky's light was harsher than that of the evening's . . . it was still beautiful.

Like his smile.

You turned your head to view your partner. Unlike in the evening, where he was unsure of your boundaries, he laid on his own side of bed. This time, he lay flush against your side, one arm underneath your neck, the other wrapped around your waist. He was holding you as close as he possibly could.

Is this what love felt like? The swell of delight in your chest, spreading from the ends of your fingers to the tips of your toes? The zeal of being in their presence? No matter what lighting the skies cast on him, he would be the center of your attention.

Again, the light of the moons' light seemed to magnate toward him. The dark hues of the sky created an even brighter contrast to their potent illumination. They no longer beckoned your awakening. Instead they seemed to peer down upon the both of you disappointedly. Like two gods condemning two sinners.

Let them have their judgements. No God, or gods for that matter, could tear you apart from his side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys . . . I have been really vague about Cygnus's appearance. What do you guys think he even looks like?


	7. An Attempted Prevention

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all are going to hate me.

What could they possibly be doing?

The effect the raiders had the night prior hadn't seemed to wear off as you watched servants of different varieties run to and fro from your position. Which, you might add, was at the end of a dark hallway.

They all seemed so panicked. They were growling something out too. Even with the different range in their voices, you could tell they were calling out something similar. And each one had a frantic edge to their voice. Even from the end of the hallway by Cygnus's quarters, you could hear their voices bounce off the walls. The word they kept shouting was a high squeak followed by two clipped r's. Every servant in the hive seemed to have uttered this word. They seemed to be looking for something. How peculiar.

You debated getting up and asking someone about this, but that would be futile. Besides, you were too shy to assert yourself with these trolls. Even if you managed to flag someone down, they wouldn't be able to understand you without Cygnus. Which brought you to your current position. When you awoke to find him missing, you decided to wait outside his quarters for his return. You had been sitting beside the door for quite some time before the commotion started. You didn't know what to think when the first servant had ran by the adjacent hallway, calling out that word in a panic. The couple that came after had their hands cupped around their mouth shouting it. It was then you noticed a reoccurring theme. The servants were desperately searching for something. Whatever it was, you wished you knew.

You stayed put. Whatever the fuss was about, you doubted you could be of any service in finding it. You slumped against the wall, content with watching everyone run around like chickens without their heads. It was almost amusing seeing these intimidating creatures in such a frenzy.

Then someone else came along.

Someone you recognized.

The black cloth covering her head could not hide her features. It was the Jade who had healed you. What was she doing here? You had already been healed. If she wanted to bring you back to the Highblood's room, you were going to have to refuse her. There was no need. You felt as fit as could be expected.

She did not breathe a word as she paused right by the entrance of the dark servant's hallway where you sat. She seemed to suffer from some internal conflict as she stood. She paused again, elegantly turning her head, gazing down the corridor. She scrutinized it, seeming to look for something. You hoped the minimal lighting hid you from her inspection. She looked much more threatening now than the last time you had saw her.

To your consternation, she started walking down the hallway, allowing you to have a better view of her. She seemed distressed as she unknowingly glided toward you. The Jade was constantly looking at the simple decor that was scattered across the hallway. Even bending to down to look under a table or around a chair a few times.

She halted at one of the larger tables roughly twenty feet away from you. Crouching down, she lifted the tablecloth covering it to look underneath. The cloth shifted as she moved under it. You wondered what it was she was looking for if she was being so through. You shifted in your sitting position to get a closer look at her.

Abruptly, she stopped. She threw the cloth off of her, her eyes flickering wildly. They suddenly locked with yours. You froze. Her eyes glowed like a nocturnal animal. She stayed as she was for a minute before standing. She rose with all the grace of a queen, eyes still locked with your form. Her pace was brisk as she stalked toward you. Her arms swinging at her sides with her fist's clenched.

You felt your heart rate increase as she got closer. Why did you feel so frightened of her? She posed no threat, she had once been an aid to you! Why were you feeling this way? There was no use in running, so you just stayed as you were and let her come to you.

She seemed almost relieved as she drew nearer to you. As she slowed her pace, her eyes dimmed. They no longer held such a harsh light, but rather that of a lighthouse during an ocean storm. She held a calm smile as she stood before you. Crouching down to your level, she offered you a grey hand. You noticed her hands were soft and unblemished. You simply looked at them, keeping your own hands folded in your lap. She uttered a single solitary purr as she offered her hand to you again.

The glowing in her eyes did not fade. However, she did look very trustworthy. Maternal almost. Maybe she could not help the way her eyes glowed in the darkness? Perhaps it was wrong to be so frightened of something she couldn't control? The last time you had seen her was in a well lit room, the Grand Highblood's room, to be exact. Her eyes did not glow then. Perhaps they only glowed in the dark? Like a cats? You decided to trust your theory, and her, as you laid your hand unto yours.

Clasping your fingers together, she helped you to your feet. With surprising strength, she tugged you forward to the bright exit of the corridor. Was it your imagination, or did she have a really tight grasp on your hand?

Almost flying past the empty corridors of the servants, you wondered where she was taking you. She didn't even pause as you nearly tripped over your own feet. She continued to grip your hand in a vice grip and run throughout the hive in a direction you knew not. You tried to get her to slow down, but she just pulled your arm harder and ran even faster.

You could feel irritation in your skin from where she'd been relentlessly tugging you. Why was she so desperate in bringing you to wherever she wanted to take you? She kept taking obscure routes through hallways you'd never been before. Down alternate hallways when the main corridor would have been much faster and simpler to take. When approaching the dining hall where you performed your duties, you expected her to charge right through and continue her running. As you neared the entrance, you picked up on the low grumblings of a few guards. Noticing the muscles twitch in her ears, she signaled she had also picked up on their voices as well. At the last minute she jerked to the left, taking a route through the kitchens. She avoided the dining hall entirely. You tried keeping up with her pace, but by now it was getting exhausting. You were visibly panting by the time she ran through the kitchens and the smaller dining hall where the servants had their meals.

The further you both ran, the more extravagant the decorations looked. The walls were a bolder color, and the furniture embellishing the hallways were a little more lavish than what was expected. The further you ran into the well decorated hallway, the slower her pace went. Without the dull pain in your legs from running, you were allowed to think. The steady jogging pace allowed easy blood flow to the brain. You pondered your surroundings. Did she want to bring you back to the Grand Highblood's room? You shuddered, hopefully not. The hallway you were being dragged down looked similar to the one he resided in, but not quite. You remembered the furniture, and it was placed differently. This hallway also lacked various bloodstains that lead a bread-crumb trail to his room. That left that option out.

You also noted her obscure route taking. She was trying her hardest to avoid other trolls. The question was though, why? Where did she want to go that involved taking secret hallways? Did she not want to be seen by the other servants? Even if you did run into one, you doubt they would notice the two of you. From what you saw earlier, they were in a desperate search for something.

Wait a minute.

You slowly started connecting the dots. Her desperation in tugging you down the hall, the way she avoided the normal routes which would no doubt be populated by other servants.  The said servants searching for something like their life depended on it . . . you nearly fell over in realization. You were what was missing. How could you have been so blind? It had been hours since you'd 'disappeared.' No one knew what had happened to you since Cygnus had swept you off your feet and into his chambers. You felt yourself trembling when pondering the retribution you might receive.

Your legs stuttered. You felt as clumsy as a newborn lamb when you tried to keep up with jade's inconstant pace. Newly awakened fear made your movements jittery. Even if you could ask her to slow down, your tongue felt too heavy to accomplish anything that eloquent. You helplessly followed her to wherever she was taking you, letting your mind run rampant with horrible thoughts of what might become of you.

You had just turned the corner, when you recognized your surroundings. This time the Jade did not waste her time in walking down untraveled routes. You recognized this passageway from the day you were first brought here. The surroundings did nothing for the anxious thoughts swarming your head. You recalled the panicked shrieking of your fellow humans, who were slaughtered like livestock. You remembered the sound of them choking on their blood as they were mauled to death by the monster behind the door.

You approached the door now. It looks more like the gates of Hell than it did a door. The Jade was unfazed by your skittish behavior as she dragged you toward the entrance. Even at the distance you both were at you could hear the phantom screams of the deceased. Your poor heart was screaming in agony.

The Jade paid no mind to your mute behavior, as she lead you forward like a shepard. Was her breathing getting heavier? The trolls standing guard opened the door, letting the light flood into the room. You felt your throat swell with anxious, unshed tears as you entered.

The torches burned bright as you stumbled into the entrance. Only making the rainbow of blood on the walls appear much more horrific. Their metallic smell was doing nothing for your nerves. The phantasmagoria of faces and blood was almost too much for your fragile mind to handle.

Through the center of it all was The Grand Highblood himself. His powerful frame sitting in his throne, one massive hand clutching the handle of a spiked club. His black lion's mane tangled behind him, providing yet another analogy of why he was the predator and you were the prey. His eyes were square on the two beings entering his throne room, sclera's as crimson as the dawn, providing artistic contrast to his violet irises. He looked as terrifying as the last time you saw him. Only there was no hope of rescue or escape from him. Not now.

You could hear his cold breathing even at distance you were away from him. He seemed to be taking careful measures to control himself. From the shaking of his broad shoulders to the ashen grey of his knuckles as he gripped his spiked weapon. This took you at back, why would he try to contain his emotions? It went against everything you had known him for . . .

The Jade disrupted the silence of the room by speaking in an elegant, clipped tone. Her voice wavered as she rolled and clicked her tongue. By the grip on your hand, you were positive she was shaking. You supposed that was the fault of the hulking beast in front of you both. You didn't blame her, he truly was a terrifying sight to behold. His head craned downward toward the both of you, he seemed very interested in what the troll beside of you had to say. Even if you could hear her stutters and stammers.

Then, in the middle of one of her sentences, she pushed you forward to the center of the room. Not expecting the harsh movement, you fell onto the floor.

Humiliated, you scrambled to look at the troll faulted with pushing you. She didn't even bother looking at you as she continued to chatter and murmur at the troll towering over the both of you. She didn't even look apologetic! She just continued to gesture to herself and you as she spoke. Turning your gaze from her and her gesticulations, you turned your head to The Grand Highblood.

If he knew you had fallen, he didn't appear to give any inclination that he was aware. He continued to furrow his brow at the jittery Jade. She sounded near tears now she seemed so terribly scared. Fearing his wrath if you moved, you continued to stay on the floor, trying to ignore the blood seeping into your clothes. You simply lowered your head and did not breathe a word.

You began to recognize a reoccurring sound as the Jade spoke. A sharp 's,' then a low frowning gurgle, followed another sharp 's.' It took you only a moment to realize what the sound signified. It was a name.

Cygnus.

The Grand Highblood looked absolutely infuriated whenever the Jade spoke his name. He kept flickering his heavy glance at you, and every time, you ducked your head to avoid looking him in his violent eyes. You feared for you own life. But more than that, you feared for your beloved's life more. What was going to happen to him?

Apparently your question was answered by the door slamming open by a pair of two guards. They, however, were not the same guards that were holding the door open. They appeared to be sharing the weight of someone they were carrying. They both had one hand gripping a figure between them. The figure they clutched was hunched over and covered in their own blood, muttering incoherently under their breath.  
You did not recognize the guards in the room, but you recognized the figure they held.

Your hands shook as Cygnus groaned under his breath, undoubtedly in a tremendous amount of pain. The vermillion blood dripped from his head unto the already forming puddle on the floor. You had trouble holding yourself up with your hands as you looked at his broken state. You wished to run to him and free him form the grasps of the apathetic guards. However, you feared the wrath of the savage troll above you all, so you stayed as you were, trembling at the sight of his battered body. Silently willing him to look at you.

The rumble of thunder that was the Highblood's voice rattled you from your thoughts. He seemed perturbed at the ruined troll that was your beloved. Behind you, the Jade continued to garble words dumbly. She never strayed her wide eyes from the Highblood, but occasionally gestured to you and Cygnus. This worried you. What was she saying to him?

The longer she spoke the more the Grand Highblood's expression twisted in disgust and fury. She began to pointedly turn her head and eyes toward the troll held captive by the guards. The more she did so, the more you shook. What was she doing? If they wanted punishment for a crime, they should give the punishment to you! Leave him out of this! Couldn't they see he was hurt enough as it is?

As if he heard your pleas, he began to speak. The sweet tenor he had was gone as he spit his words toward the Jade. Even if he had enough wounds to kill a weaker troll, his malice seemed to give him strength. He bared his bloodstained teeth and hissed unintelligible insults. Cygnus had forwent his characteristically charming personality for someone truly spiteful. Throughly terrifying you.

However, when he turned his head to look at you, there was nothing but regret in his eyes. His eyes that were so cold a minute ago, seemed as soft like the sunset when they looked at you. Just like this evening. Only this evening, there was no blood on his face, or tears in his eyes.

" . . . forgive me. I knew this was going to end badly, from the second I saw you, I knew." He paused to shake his head and sob, "But I couldn't help falling for you."

This was when tears started falling down your own face.

"They're going to kill me. There is no doubt about it, but I would rather die right now, knowing that you love me, than live an eternity without having ever met you. You weren't spared for me to fall in love with, no, you were kept alive to be his--"

His confession was interrupted by the very monster who started this mess. He had now stood up from his throne and towered over everyone in the room. If the ruby sclera's were anything to go by, he was enraged. Kneeling in the floor was doing nothing for height difference between you both. And the flickering flames of the torches burned bright against his grey skin. He stormed toward the equally kneeled figure of Cygnus, however, there was no indication of fear in your beloved's eyes. Just the passionate fury that was almost equal to the troll who he stood before.

The spiked club then Grand Highblood carried dragged against the floor as he approached the center of the throne room. The Jade and two guards were competent enough to dart away from the path of the provoked beast. You, however, were too frozen with fear, and Cygnus was burning with incandescence as much as the aforementioned torches to be bothered to move.

As the Highblood approached him, or rather charged at him. He fervidly stood his ground, not a trace of panic in his eyes. For an instant, you admired his courage. And that instant was shattered as the Grand Highblood raised the blood spattered weapon over his head to strike.

Time seemed to slow as you watched the scene unfold. The bravery of your beloved, the rage of the monster before you. It looked to be a mosaic piece in a holy sanctuary.

You knew at that moment, you knew what you had to do.

Rising on unsteady legs, you ran forward to the soon-to-be execution. You legs nearly faltered underneath you, but you kept running. Running until it was you underneath the club. You stretched one arm above of you to vainly block the assaulting club, and another behind you to shield the only troll you knew how to love.

With reckless abandon, you screamed the only word appropriate toward the situation.

"No!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I'm so late guys :(  
> Something came up, and it's been hard for me to work on this piece. I've been thinking about taking a short break on this fix for a while. Nothing too long, it's just I need to get better control of my circumstances. 
> 
> By the way, I need you guys to vote on something for me. You have no idea what you'll be voting on, but it will help me choose where the story will go. Alright, in the comments, pick a number between 1 and 20. Trust me on this ;)
> 
> Kudos and comments are always appreciated!


	8. Judgement Day Has Arrived

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The votes are in. Read the chapter for what you all voted for ;)

Your voice resonated throughout the throne room like silver church bells. Everything and everyone in the room seemed to stop where they were. They were almost unbelieving of your effrontery. The Grand Highblood himself looked taken aback with gall you displayed. No one spoke that way to him, but you couldn't bring yourself to care.

You still remained the border between him and Cygnus. He would have been beaten to a pile of bones and blood is not for your gall. It was you who kept him from being slaughtered. So let them stare. Let them question your effrontery.

"If you kill him, you'll have to kill me too." You spoke slowly, with a wavering voice.

It seemed to take affect. He lowered the club from over his head, resting it on one of his broad shoulders. The confusion was still very much evident on his face. However, his sclera's seemed just as crimson, and his lips remained curled. His weapon wasn't raised, though. That was probably as relaxed as he was going to get at the moment. You'd just have to take the chance.

Inhaling a shaky breath, you lowered the arm that was outreached toward him. You slowly backed away from him and toward Cygnus, who was still kneeling in forced submission on the ground. Your poor heart couldn't take the distress of nearly seeing him killed. You managed to remain calm, but all you wanted to do was hold him in your arms and never let him go. You took deeper breaths as you approached your companion.

His eyes seemed frantic as he watched you, however he did not move from his kneeling position. They constantly flickered between you and his potential executioner. He seemed just as confused as the Highblood, if not more jittery. You could see his broad chest deflate then inflate again with panicked breaths.

"What are you doing? You're going to get yourself killed!" He hissed as you drew nearer. However, you never took your eyes off the Highblood as you approached. Upon standing next to Cygnus, you looked the ferocious figure in front of you directly in the eye. Your legs were trembling, but you continued with your plan.

Cygnus wasn't shaking as badly as you were, but he definitely held fear in his eyes. You wondered if that fear was for himself or for you. You didn't have time to dwell on it. The Highblood looked like a tiger ready to pounce if you took so much as one step he didn't expect. Hopefully what you did next would ease his confused mind.

You needed him to see that Cygnus wasn't a threat. He wasn't like the cruel teal-blood that had ruthlessly harassed you since you came here. Even though it was believed he had stolen you from the Highblood's chambers when you were weak and defenseless. Who knows what horrible rumors the Highblood could have heard about your beloved. You needed to tell him that there was no reason to have him killed. You loved him, shouldn't that be enough? Surely such a monster as the Grand Highblood wouldn't kill one of his servants on false accusations?

You gently laid a hand on one of his broad shoulders. Cygnus's pupils dilated. Whatever he thought of this plan, he didn't appear to agree with whatever it consisted of. Taking another shaking inhale, you opened your dry mouth to speak the words of the truth.

"Whatever crimes you have accused him of, he is innocent of all of them. I don't know why he is here to be executed, but he doesn't deserve to be killed for it! You've killed people for less, I know. You've even killed my own people for less! But please, if there is any compassion in that stone cold heart of yours, you'll spare him. You did it for me. You had no sympathy for my people. You culled them all like livestock. You left me with the knowledge that I am the sole survivor of a massacre. A massacre that I had no right to walk out alive from. If you have any of that pity in your soul still, you'll grant him mercy."

It was here the tears started. Or rather, you noticed there were tears. It mattered not that there was evidence of your emotion, you continued with your monologue, "You may not understand a word I'm saying, but please let something get to you! I could not bare to live in a world without him. He fills the stars with envy, for he shines so bright. I am a fallen Icarus and he is the ocean that catches me. The truth is, if you wished to kill him, you'd have to kill me with him," you paused again, taking a deep breath. You were ready for endless possibilities of what happened next as you finished your confession, "The truth is . . . I love him."

It was then he stiffened beside you. You were about to turn and ask what was wrong, but you were interrupted.

The roar that erupted from the furious Grand Highblood was enough to deafen you.

Throughout your little 'sermon,' he had remained tense, but silent. He had waited to see where you were to go with what you were doing. You had hoped to reassure him that Cygnus was no threat to him. Yet, it appeared you only confirmed whatever suspicions he had. You were a fool to think you could ever come to terms with such a monster.

He didn't waste anytime in charging toward the both of you. Club raised and red-eyed, he looked as every bit of the insane troll you had met the first day you came here. There was no pity in his eyes now. You had escaped death in this throne room before, but now you did not want to. If he decides to kill you, so be it. You will gladly take retribution for a false crime Cygnus did not commit. With a deep inhale, you stared the Highblood down as he raised his club to deliver the first and final blow to kill both you and Cygnus.

However, there was no blow to kill you.

At the last minute, Cygnus had shoved you to the side. Throwing you a good ways across the room, you hit the floor with a pained squeal. Gathering your bearings, you looked to see a spinning room. You lifted your head to look at him, for a few agonizing seconds, time stopped.

He looked back at you. Through the dizzying twirl of the room, you could still see vibrant tears streaming down his face as he gazed dejectedly at you from across the room.

With everything, and everyone, in the room frozen in time, he uttered his final words to you.

The torches dimmed in anticipation. The guards and the Jade held their breath in frightened expectancy. The room itself, a slaughterhouse of human and troll blood alike, seemed to come alive to witness one being's last words to another.

. . .

 

"I am so flushed for you."

 

Then, the tranquility of the silence around you was shattered by the crunching of bones.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With this brief chapter out of the way. I think I'll take a break. Just some extra time to write some more chapters and further develop this fic. With spring break coming to a close, I'll no longer be able to write as much as I did. So, I hope you guys will be patient and wait for me :)
> 
> And try not to drag me in the comment system. Because I know most of you are going to try.


	9. An Abysmal State

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, don't ever let me take a break on this ever again because so help me I will do nothing on it.

The throne room walls echoed your distressed screams for goodness knows how long. You don't know when the real ones stopped and when the phantom ones began. The shrill note inside your head seemed to last for eternity, like an eternal symphony written by your own hand. 

The shock of his broken body had been too much for you to bear. One of his horns had broken off and laid in pieces beneath him. One half of his face had been horribly disfigured, and one of his eyes had fallen out. The other was permanently open in an indescribable expression. One of his arms had broken off, and there was his blood staining everything. The image had ingrained itself your mind as you looked back on the memories you both shared.

Eventually you were escorted elsewhere. By whom, you had no clue. Everything felt numb, and there was nothing to stop the chaotic symphony in your head.

. . .

You had eventually lost track of the time. The nights and days seemed to blend together, but then again, hadn't they always? But the undisruptive flow of the prior days felt more like a gentle stream of water. Now, they felt more like the rapids of a waterfall; forever tumbling down, never reaching the bottom.

At first, you wanted to distract yourself from the shock. It wasn't an unheard of method, and you were desperate to try anything to alleviate the pain running rampant through your head. Work your way through the grief. You could do that. But when you went to enter the kitchens, a troll wearing an olive tunic blocked your path. He looked desperate to block the door, and mildly afraid of you. You asked if you could enter, but he only warbled an incomprehensible response. Deciding it was futile to argue against someone who couldn't understand you, you waved a solumn farewell.

What was there to do now?

You spent your time wondering around the hive like an wayward poltergeist. With nothing to distract you, your feelings began to consume you. Apathy was wrapping you in its python-tight grip, and you let it. Your attitude was becoming worrisome to almost everyone in the hive, yet no one dared to say anything. Even if you were to run into a servant in the hallway, they would always duck their head and shy away from you, almost fearfully.

Despite the fact, you felt yourself becoming more and more familiar with your surroundings around the hive. It came to a point where you could find almost any of the main rooms with your eyes closed. There were certain locations you hovered around more than others, however. These included your old chamber where you first met Cygnus, his own chamber, and the throne room where you saw him killed. The latter especially. It may be morbid, but you'd do anything to preserve his memory.

You could barely recall half of his scratchy tenor voice half the time, and it was causing you great worry. You needed something to hold on to. The first time you went to see his body, you saw it had disappeared. However, the blood had remained. This confused and frustrated your saddened spirit, but you daren't say anything. Normally, the corpses rotted until they were almost etched into the floor, but Cygnus's body was nowhere to be found. The memories continued to haunt you, but you stayed until their was enough commotion outside to take your leave.

You made sure to do your wondering during the day, when the nocturnal trolls of the hive were sleeping and away from where you were. The last thing you needed was to have an unintentional run in with the Grand Highblood in his work space. Or to find an irritable guard itching for something to take their stress out on. You managed to avoid everyone all together.

You began finding creative ways to distract yourself.

One evening, you counted all exotic plants that took residence in the hive's east wing. There were 26 ivory ones, 35 black ones, and 15 were a mix between the two.

The other evening, you spent your time counting the purple stain-glass windows in the north wing. There were 826. Or 822. You were startled by a guard making his rounds, causing you to hide, and then, frustratingly, loose count. It took you a while to get back on track, but you did none the less.

So the days continued like this. You jog up one of the staircases of the castle and count anything and everything.

It kept you focused. It kept the screams silent. It kept you from regretting.

. . .

You had just finished counting the stones cemented into the left wall of the east wing, when you felt someone's eyes on you.

They were searing into your backside, and it was unpleasant to feel such a thing. Any servant of any rank was desperate to avoid you, so which one had the gall to stare at you? Turning your body and head, your eyes scanned the hallway for any presence. Empty. Perhaps that was for the best. Your social skills were rusty after such a long time in isolation. 

The hallway was silent, and lacked any troll, servant of otherwise. You tried to bury your disappointment. Why would you be disappointed? You were fine without anyone to talk to. Anyone to confide in. Even if they couldn't understand you.

You mumbled fussily to yourself. In your eagerness to find someone, you had lost count of the stone bricks. You signed and walked back down the hallway, planning to find the original brick you started with. You silently kicked yourself as you addled down the hallway. You were getting lonely and that was bad. You've never been this isolated before, and it was terrifying to think about. You were starving for some company. Any company.

You were about to turn the corner when you heard voices, one was agonizingly familiar and so deep it rattled your bones. You didn't have to look to know who it was, but your curiously was too much to bare. With no surprise, you found it was the master of the hive himself, The Grand Highblood.

He had his back turned toward you, but he seemed cross. Well, more cross than usual. He was busily grumbling orders to two blue guards trembling below him. You couldn't understand his words, but you'd bet money the guards beneath him had messed up majorly. You leaned forward, trying to get a read on the guards expression, while trying to remain hidden behind the wall.

One of the guards muttered a trill under his breath, and you tried leaning even closer to hear it. They seemed to be deserving of a punishment of some sort, but with the Grand Highblood's capricious temper, heaven only knew what they did.

When you tried leaning closer to make out his next sentence, your were unfortunate enough to land on the floor with a shrill yelp.

Your fall couldn't have been louder if you had tried.

Looking up toward the trolls from your view on the ground, you noticed they were all staring at you. Your blood ran cold. Fantastic, you'd managed weeks without detection from anybody, just for you to ruin it. Your hands began to shake the longer they stared. They seemed to have no intention of going back to whatever they were doing.

Upon further inspection, their stares differed. The once trembling guards had almost palpable relief in their expression. You couldn't blame them, if by some miracle, something distracted the Grand Highblood from bringing his wrath upon you, you'd be grateful too. As for the Grand Highblood himself, his expression was unreadable. His brows were furrowed, but his mouth wasn't set in the crazed grin you were so used to.

You remained on this ground. Which was becoming a common occurrence whenever you were in each other's presence. You feared what he would do to you. You wondered about the curious, acquiescent troll you had once served in the dining hall all those nights ago. What happened to him? Was the mercurial, violent monster you now knew holding him captive? What was the trigger for letting the docile one free? You had seen proof of the others existence. Which mood decided on the death of everyone you had ever known and loved?

He made a move toward you. Cautiously, like you were an easily frightened animal. Which, you supposed, was the case in his eyes. But caution seemed to be a new emotion for him. He seemed frankly uncomfortable with feeling it. He took heavy steps in your direction. His brows knitting further. You had never seen him like this. You doubted anybody had. It was beginning to unnerve you.

You jerked yourself up from the floor. He froze from where he was. This behavior of his was absolutely uncanny. As unpredictable as he was, this was just bizarre. It was starting to frighten you. You had seen kindness from him. You had seen the most vile cruelty. His emotions refused to take a pattern. A spark of fear flared in your gut.

He was positively insane, and there was no reasoning for it. You weren't going to wait for his moral coil to snap and kill you where you were. You had to get away from him.

Without so much as a warning, you booked it down the hall as fast as you could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am not happy with this chapter. Not at all. Hopefully you people can find solace in it.
> 
> We see our protagonist is Suffering™ which you guys either seem to like or hate.


	10. An Alarming Discovery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ya'll gonna hate me for updating so late.

The second you made the sudden skittish mood to run down the hallway, you physically heard his patience snap.

He wasted no time in charging after you. You felt his rage before you heard it. His roar echoed through the entire wing of the hive. You wasted no time in picking up your pace as you saw the walls on either side of you blur past. You suddenly regretted your lack of appetite recently, and prayed whatever strength you had left to get you away from him.

You were not going to stand around and risk your life around a dangerous and mentally ill monster who decided he fancied your companionship. You were not that quick to forgive, not with screams of the innocent echoing in your head and their bodies forever ingrained into your mind. It was your only option of survival in this place. Run from your adversaries, or be butchered alive.

The floor of the east wing trembled under the might of the Grand Highblood's footsteps. He didn't seem pleased that whomever had his attention suddenly ran out from under him. Well, news for him, you weren't pleased either. You didn't appreciate being chased, and he had yet to realize that.

It felt like running during an earthquake. Your soft footfalls were no match in comparison to that of your pursuer. However, you had a size advantage and were much faster than he. However, he undoubtedly had a lot of stamina, and it would not take long for you to tire out. Especially since you warped your sleep schedule and haven't been eating lately. You refused to tire, you couldn't tire! Not until you managed to find a hiding place and wait him out.

You knew just the place. He would never suspect to look there. Your tireless counting and wandering about the hive had paid off thankfully, even if your poor eating and sleeping habits hadn't. However, your chosen hiding spot was a long way from where you were running. How was your stamina going to last that long and how were you going to lose him?

A far-closer-than-should-have-been roar distracted you from your current planning, and you didn't dare turn around to see the charging beast coming after you. Why was he so close?! He wasn't supposed to be this far ahead! Perhaps you underestimated his speed, but someone that size and bulk shouldn't that fast. Should they?

You had seen his muscular frame on many occasions, but it hadn't been your focus on any time that you saw him. You were too preoccupied with other, more important and distressing matters. His muscles were undoubtedly big. There were definitely benefits to hauling around giant clubs that were bigger than the majority of one's servants.

You wondered how he managed to get them? Were the clubs specifically built for him? Were they forged with him in mind? Were they original? No others like them? Was the Highblood the only one of his kind? You had yet to see another troll wearing purple. You remembered Cygnus telling you something about 'subjugglators' in passing at one point. Was that his lineage? Was he created to do what he did now? Was he, and his clubs alike, built to murder other trolls and human's alike? And at times, his own servants?

Speaking of the servants, where were they? You hadn't seen a single one during your chase. Not even a guard. Did the guards that he was baring his teeth at spread the word? Perhaps. If they did, they certainly moved fast. Or perhaps the footfalls of the Grand Highblood spoke for themselves, and the servants already knew that meant to run and hide. You couldn't blame them. You would probably do the same thing had your circumstances happened to someone else. Then again, no one in the servants rank had the audacity to provoke the Highblood.

You didn't provoke the Highblood. You feared his intention and fragile mental stability and did whatever you could to keep yourself safe. Which, by your terms, meant running from danger. He was the danger. He had yet to realize that. Why did it have to be you to catch his attention. Why couldn't it be one of his many attendants?

Then again, none of Highblood's attendants had caught his eye. Why was that? From your experience from cleaning the floors and from being in the kitchens there were plenty of attractive trolls around. Both of high and low status alike. Plenty for him to choose from. You wondered why he chose you. Was it that you were a novelty? Something interesting and different from unlike any species he had ever seen?

That couldn't be it. If so, why didn't he let the other humans who came here with you live? You were nothing special. You bled the same color as them, you did everything like a human would. You even ran cowardly as a human would. Like you were now, but then why did he have such an undeniable attraction toward you? Like a magnet almost. What did he even want with a human like you?

Your lungs were starting to burn as you made your way down the second flight of stairs. Your fatigue was growing harder and harder to ignore. Running down the stairs was dangerous, especially one with so many steps, but you were not going to stop for anything in this universe. Not even as you felt your limbs shake from the strain of running without proper sleep.

If you ever survived this encounter you were going to sleep for a century.

As your feet landed against the stone floor at the bottom of the stairs, you heard a faded roar coming from above you. The sound made you hopeful. It meant he was farther away than you thought he was. You felt yourself grinning as you continued to run. A brief glimmer of hope in this pursuit predation.

With the knowledge that he was far behind you. You began to pace yourself, your body almost sobbing with the relief. Your chest was pumping itself outward and inward at a worrisome speed, and you continued to regret your method of grieving. You may not recover from this endeavor, even if the Highblood eventually grows bored with this chase.

Your heart was pounding loud enough for you to hear the thudding inside your cerebrum. With the emotional trauma that has occurred lately, adding the lack of attention to your wellbeing, plus the fearful strain of the Highblood chasing you, your heart was ready to collapse. It was making your entire frame tremble.

As you shakily jogged toward the dining hall, you took comfort in knowing your hiding place was close. You slowed down, almost to walk, supporting yourself along the high table along the way. The dining hall had many awful memories from when you were naïve about this place and its inhabitants. You remembered first being recruited to the kitchen and serving the Highblood, seeing him as a different troll, not as the cold-blooded murder you knew now. You remembered the battle sight were you taken by the winged troll who nearly killed you via asphyxiation. Which . . . the Highblood saved you from. Why? That was always the question. Why?

He was the horrible, cruel, murder of everything you ever knew. You didn't do anything to deserve death, but by goodness, you wanted it. You wanted to join your friends, family, neighbors, and beloved in oblivion. Why couldn't you? What was stopping you? Why were you trapped in existence with a capricious monster who demanded to keep you by his side?

Your pitiful state of fear was melting into pure carnal rage. You halted to a complete stop at the tables side, still supporting yourself. You were going to have satisfaction, or you were going to have death. Either one sounded fantastic. You were finished with being with being a novelty item. You were finished being a fascinating insect trapped in a glass jar for him to stare at.

Your heart was still pounding in your chest, but for an entirely different reason. Resentment for everything he stood for was burning through your veins. You were taking deep breaths to keep from screaming. You were ready to fly into frenzy if you didn't calm yourself down. If you continued on like this, you were to die of a heart attack before you had the satisfaction of knowing why the Highblood was so infatuated with you.

You straightened your spine, however you still kept your hand on the glossy wooden table. You still needed to support for your shaky limbs, but he didn't need to know that. The only thing he needed to know was that you were through with his games of torment. Did he have a sick enjoyment of making you suffer? Your expression had to remain default, but it was beginning to become difficult.

A roar loud enough to shake the room you were in rattled you out of your determined mind state. Perhaps satisfaction for death wasn't as wonderful as you fantasized it would be. Your blood ran icy as you heard the tell-tale rumble of his footfalls. They fell quickly and urgently, like he was running. He sounded close.

Fear gripped your exited heart like a vice. Your rage was evaporating by the second, and your fight or flight instincts were taking hold. You were not going to wait here like a sitting duck for him to get you. What were you thinking?! Demand to this madman to know why you were still alive? Yeah right, try it, and end up on the other, more painful end of his club.

You removed your hand from the table. Removing the support along with it. Perhaps, if you hurried, you could make it to your hiding place before you managed to enter the room.

As if fate had heard you, and sought retaliation, the host of the hive himself broke down the doors to the dining hall.

You turned to see The Grand Highblood standing in the now broken doorway. His chest was heaving, and his shoulders shook with every breath he took. If you were scared before, you were downright petrified in this moment. If you managed to escape his inevitable grasp now, you'd likely die of a panic attack.

You wasted no time to booking toward the hallway that led to the kitchens. A slightly longer route to where you desired to hide, but you needed him to loose your trail. Your life was on the line and it was a wonder how you were able to form any cognitive thought, but you didn't question it. You felt your legs tremble as you pushed you feet away from the ground into the direction you coveted.

You made it all but seven feet. You were abruptly on your stomach before you could scream a single syllable. Preferably one beginning with the letter "f." Your poor legs were shaking like that of a newborn lambs. And the Highblood was the lion that was going to tear said limbs from your torso.

Suddenly, an immense shadow fell over your fallen body. Oh no. You tried to close the nonexistent space between you and the floor. If you could melt into it, you would give anything to do so now. You stopped breathing. You were frozen with anticipation for the worst.

You lifted your head just a fraction above the ground to peer at your surroundings. Two massive hands were on either side of you, caging you to the ground. You noticed with a small amount of relief that his club was no where in sight. However, that relief was short lived when you realized he could just as easily kill you with his bare hands. You tried not to dwell on that fact too much.

While you were distracted, you didn't notice his right hand slowly sliding toward your still, unmoving body. However, you did notice it's weight once it gently, as gently as the Highblood could it seemed, rested on your exposed back.

Good gracious, if he kept this up you were going to rattle your own head right off of your body with your shaking.

You hoped he wouldn't crush you. It would be more than easy easy for him to increase the pressure by just a soupçon and just end your life by smashing your ribcage. Just the thought makes you feel fragile under his touch.

Slowly, ever so slowly, he curled his clawed fingers around your limp body. Your breathing started to accelerate, to a worrisome point. You stiffened under his placid, almost loving, grip. You were trying your best not to panic or flail under it. You knew the slightest move could cause him to loose it and leave your innards coating the inside of his palm. Not that you'd want to move anyway. The fear of dying to soon was beginning to crush you. Pun not intended.

With the steadiest of movements, the Grand Highblood lifted his hand. With you still inside of it. You were breathing like you were on the verge of asphyxiation. Which might not be too far of a stretch if things went the way you were thinking they were going to go.

The Grand Highblood also lifted himself off of the floor. Using his other his hand as a support, he stood tall. You were held in his hand, he had his wrist twisted to where your body a couple of feet away from his face. Which, considering his height, was not a large amount. What did he plan to do? Did he want to see the look in your eyes as you lost your life? If your memory served correctly, that seemed like something he would do.

However, he never tightened his grip. It still remained loose enough not to hurt you, yet tight enough for you you not to move. He brought you closer to him, staring deep into your frightened eyes. The proximity was doing nothing to help your poor heartbeat. With a sharp inhale, you conjured up an ounce of courage to peer back into his eyes.

It never occurred to you how breathtaking his eyes were. In every instance you were this close to the Grand Highblood, you were either blacked out or crying to heavily to truly appreciate them. They were a complete oxymoron to everything he was. For everything he stood for. Two deep iolite gemstones embedded in golden scleras. They contrasted almost surreally with the violent, smeared face-paint he always wore. How could someone with such a hateful soul have such a beautiful feature? You felt captivated by them.

If you had been paying more attention you would have noticed his brows rise as he was equally confused and beguiled by your own features. Perhaps that's what caused him to bring you even closer. Your fragile head inches away from his own. You wouldn't dare make another move. Not if your life depended on it. If anything your life depended on you staying still.

You felt his massive fingers drill against your torso. Slowly, patiently, like you were fragile relic upon inspection. You felt the odd coolness of his breath as he slowly exhaled. You had to be hallucinating, but were his exhales just as unsteady as your own?

Your dwellings were interrupted by a single deep inhale against your skin. You tightened your grip on your support, in other words, his fingers. Why did he do that? You were too shocked to be fearful of his actions. It was like he was appraising an fine perfume. Which, upon recollection, you couldn't recall wearing recently.

If him scenting your hair was a shock. You were in no prepared for what he did next.

He relaxed his massive jaw, drawing it back revealing a row of teeth that could impale on the spot. He drew a deep inhale and curled his lips.

You stood, nonplussed at what he did.

He spoke.

True, it was as deeper than any voice you have heard in your existence, and it sounded like gravels crashing against the earth's pressure. But you distinctively heard formed words fall from his tongue. It was experience you'd have yet to have. It was one you weren't sure you wanted to have again.

Even though they were but whispered into your ear, you were unwavering in the fact that the words would be ringing in your head for days to come

"Your livelihood in this hive was motherfucking destined, but if you keep fucking hiding, then by the Messiahs', I got no problem forcing you into acceptance of your motherfucking place by my side."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OHHHHHHHH NOOOOOOOOOO.
> 
> Was this worth the wait? Probably not. But y'know, finals. They suck the life outta ya. However, summer is here. And you know what that means~
> 
> Updates. Hopefully. Because of more time to write.
> 
> I'll see you guys next chapter. Tell me what you guys think of this one and I'll see what kind of material I can put in the next chapter.


	11. A Change in Character

Apparently your silence was not appreciated.

Even if you could respond to that sentence, how would you? Your jaw was slack in surprise and horror. It wasn't possible. The monster who's words were about as compressible as trying to understand an angry lion, suddenly spoke English. As clear as you could comprehend, he was speaking a language you could understand. Could you be hallucinating?

Judging by the look on his paint covered face, you were in fact, not hallucinating. His lips were curled into a perturbing frown that unintentionally revealed his teeth. His eyes, his prepossessing eyes, were locked on your bewildered form in his hand. It looked like he had no intention of averting his gaze. No matter how confused or fearful you were.

But the question remained, how could you understand him? Your friendship and eventual relationship of Cygnus allowed you the knowledge of understanding of him. But there was always the question of why you could understand him and not every other troll. At first, you believed it was the pitch of Cygnus's voice that allowed you comprehension, but that was immediately proven false minutes ago. The Highblood had one of the most low and gravely voices you had ever heard. Perhaps your listening of passive conversations of servants were helping?

With your avoidance of interaction of any kind, you had to hide in some places to avoid being seen by the many, many aids that flooded the hive. Then, much to your chagrin, some of the servants that would pass you would stay and have a conversation right by the place you were hiding. Sure, there were instances where you could make out a word or two that was close to your language, but you were quick to shrug it off. Even then, what was the factor of you understanding a few words of some trolls, but not others? Did they have different speech patterns that were completely foreign to your ears, and thus, made it difficult for you to understand? What was the difference? Speech pattern, gravelly voices, it mattered not. You were stuck understanding every word The Grand Highblood felt like telling you.

After the initial shock of him, of all things, speaking to you, you considered his words. Your eyes flickered in thought at what had he was conveying. What had he meant? "By his side?" What had you done to give him any inclination that you belonged to him? Where did he get the gall telling you that you were destined to come here? To this Hell? What gave him the authority in telling you what you were to do? You too, were a unwilling servant in his hive, but you were not going to sit by and be an amenable slave for him to toy with.

You looked straight back at him. You pursed your lips in your own, definitely less threatening, frown. Before you could become too fearful to breathe a word, your mouth opened to question him. Not even bothering to think about if he could understand you like you could him.

"D-destined? What makes you s-say that? What m-makes me yours?" Your voice trembled, abhorrently, as you addressed him. He had you several feet off the ground with you clutching desperately to the hand he held you with. A hand he could easily crush you with if you said one word he disliked. You truly had no entitlement to question what he said, but by goodness, you were sick and tired of his capricious ways.

"You were destined to be a prophet by the motherfucking Mirthful Messiahs, and I am fucking damned to the Dark Carnival before I let anyone else motherfucking have you." was his sharp retort, spoken in fluent, vulgar, English. Which answered the question that he could understand you as well. However, he said you were prophesied by his deities. Could that be the reason he kept you alive? The reason why so much blood has spilled? The reason you lost Cygnus? Because his false gods demanded it?

How many have lost their lives? How many bodies, of both human and trolls, have been stacked against your conscience because he deemed it just? Your friends, neighbors, and beloved's existence have been erased from this timeline without anything for you to remember them by. His demiurge didn't mean a damned thing to you. Nor did this prophecy he spoke of. You were going to tell him so.

You straightened your spine, and willed your voice not to shake. You were tired of these games. You were tired of it all. He had no say over you.

"I don't care what your "Messiahs" prophesied, it was not worth all the people you killed. I want no part of it. In fact, I'd rather die than spend the rest of my life being used as your toy!" You said it. You were almost proud of the way your voice barely wavered. The words were out of your mouth, into the air, and were currently being processed by The Grand Highblood. You too, were stricken with the impropriety which you had just spoke. You had just spoken sacrilegiously about his esteemed gods and had told him you favored death over being with him.

You and your big mouth. Prophecy or not, you might have made him angry enough to kill you right here. It certainly wouldn't be difficult. He could just tighten his grip just a fraction and squeeze the breath out of your lungs like a boa constrictor.

How is it that whenever your anger arose and you acted upon it, the only thing you felt afterward was regret? Where was the satisfaction you thought you'd receive? It was nowhere to be found, much like the courage you felt a second ago.

You flickered your hesitant gaze upward to meet his. You braced for the impact that was bound to come, flinching away from him. It was going to be painful, but atleast it would quick. You had not known him to prolong his victims suffering. No, he enjoyed seeing their blood stream from their bodies to much too elongate their terror. Not that he enjoyed seeing that as well.

His eyes were still excruciatingly beautiful. They were perhaps the only thing ''beautiful'' about him. If you didn't fear for your life, you could have appreciated them more. However, the eyebrows that narrowed above said eyes certainly diminished their beauty by a considerable amount.

However, he made no move to crush you. His eyes and gritted teeth betrayed the emotion that he felt inside. He was undeniably cross with you. You see the tense, bulging, muscles running up his arm, and the tense way his fingers curled around you torso, leaving your dangling legs to sway in the air.

Why did he not act? What was stopping him? His temper was obviously flared and and anyone else in your position would have had their entrails besmeared across his massive hands. He simply stood tensely with you in his hand, his mouth pressed into a hard line.

Your own brows curved, although they were in confusion more than anything else. Why weren't you a cold, dead, corpse lying in his palm? Or worse, a cold, dead, corpse on the floor? He probably did want to kill you for sacrilegiously calling out his gods, but why didn't he?

Wait . . . his gods? His Messiahs? What was it that he said? There was a prophecy? That you, of all people, were involved in? That prevented him from killing you? You blanched, eyes wide like a deer in headlights. It couldn't be true. Could it? You tried to fight the grin stretching across your face.

Could you have found a possible loophole? Did your so-called "prophet" abilities prevent him from killing you? Did you have a metaphorical shield around you because of his twisted religion? You currently weren't a corpse lying in his hand because of his supposed gods?

You couldn't believe it. You, according to him, were a sacrosanct in terms of this prophecy. A prophecy that you had no clue what entailed, but by goodness, you weren't going to let a petty, insignificant thing like that ruin your joy. You were untouchable by the The Grand Highblood. The absolute barbaric sovereign of culling people and trolls alike. You were the one being in all of creation that couldn't be touched by him. Perhaps the rest of your life wasn't going to be used as his toy, but rather the other way around.

You no longer fought the cunning grin that revealed your teeth. It was so big your cheeks started to ache. You, pitiful, fragile, you, had a significant amount of power over the Highblood. What a strange world.

With a manipulative gleam in your eyes, you stared him dead in the face. You leaned forward, still grinning like a maniac, and breathed the following words.

"This prophecy of which you speak will be your undoing."

...

And there was not a single tremor in your voice as you stated so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess whose back~
> 
> Ugh. I was hit with a major case of writer's block while writing this, but I managed to overcome it and thus, bring you this chapter.
> 
> Get hyped.
> 
> I rather enjoyed writing this chapter, it brought out a new side of our sweet, innocent protagonist. Power can do scary things with one's head. However, the question is, do you guys like this new, Lady Macbeth-esque side to our dear reader? Leave a comment and tell me what you think.


	12. A Reconsideration

It had been a several nights since you had heard about this prophecy in which you played a major role in. Ever since then, you couldn't find it in yourself to be the timid little human you were when you first arrived. To be fair, you were not completely unscrupulous. You tried to maintain your character.

At first, you were uncaring if you were seduced by the influence you held over the Highblood. Whenever you were in his presence, you didn't fight the saccharin grin that stretched across the lower portion of your face. If The Grand Highblood felt uneasy with your sudden change in demeanor, he didn't give you any indication of such. The knowing gleam in his eyes implied that he probably realized you were plotting something, and the way those eyes followed you definitely made you reconsider plotting anything, but what were you going to do with the leverage you had if not use it?

It wasn't until you stumbled upon one of the many servants in the household did you reconsider your disposition change. You remember that night well. It had gotten late in the moonrise, and you were craving something to eat. While making your way down the kitchens you had abruptly bumped into a fairly young servant wearing a green hood. The collision had sent you falling to the floor, and you were filled with the sudden urge to scream at whomever thought it was a good idea to knock you over like a bowling pin. Scowling, you looked upward to see your offender only to be shocked to find them on the ground as well. One look at you and they were scrambling to their feet shrieking hoarse apologies and staring at you like you were the Highblood himself. You didn't answer them as they stood frozen with fright. You just sat on the stone floor in solemn silence, the cold water of realization being poured over you. Eventually, the servant stumbled in the direction you planned on going.

The way they looked at you . . .

Were you turning into a tyrant? A megalomanic? Were you unintentionally picking up on the Highblood's ways of striking fear into everyone he encounters?

Your mouth twitched downward. Is this what the rest of the servant's thought of you now? Those who you had once worked side by side with, now fearing the utterance of your name? What's worse, what would Cygnus have thought of this behavior? At that thought, you climbed to your feet, appetite now forgotten, and wondered back through the halls.

"Nearly all men can stand adversity, but if you want to test a man's character, give him power." The quote had been echoing through your head ever since that day. The speaker of such words was a widely respected man who managed to keep his control and be beloved by the masses. You too, respected him, and strived to live by his ideals. However, you doubted even he could understand the situation you were under. He never had to find himself under the capture of a capricious, malignant alien who's religion deemed you be kept alive and well.

Is that why the Highblood had sent his guards to Earth? To find the human that fit the description of his prophet? You still felt bitter about how many people died to find the metaphorical needle in a haystack, in other words, you. How many cities had he ransacked to find the right person? Did the prophecy leave a description for him to follow? It was doubtful. You wondered when he began getting frustrated enough to start painting his walls with the people who the prophecy deemed false? You knew him to be very impatient.

As stated in his prophecy, you were untouchable according his beloved religion, and you were desperate for the leverage which you held to not reach your head. Power had the uncanny ability to corrupt even the most innocent of souls, and you were determined to be an exception.

Whenever you were in your elementary years, you just never understood why people of authority in your history books would suddenly change their government, and give themselves more of power. They basically turned their back on their people, and you just couldn't wrap your juvenile head around that concept. Why would one be so selfish?

Now you knew, and good gracious, it was intoxicating and difficult to withstand. It felt like every ounce of power you held was flowing through your bloodstream and waiting to enact its revenge on the murder in the hive. His influence was corrupting you from the inside out. You were not going to be a tyrant like he was. No matter what power you had over him.

You definitely started walking freely around the hive more often. The hiding nonsense you did before was not going to cut it with the Highblood, even though the silence of the hiding let your philosophical mind flow more easily. At the time he ordered it, you debated being arrant and refusing him. But the words that had been ringing in your ears had reminded you not to arouse his wrath. So without, a word, but a haughty look in his direction, you disregarded hiding.

To pacify your metaphysical mind, you began wondering the halls of some of the quieter wings of the hive. One of your favorites was the hallway of the north wing, just to the right of the top of staircase. It was silent, and away from the hustle and bustle of the servants or the enraged roaring of the Highblood. The corridors was peaceful and held a regal atmosphere. The questions that had silently brewed in your head for the longest time were now allowed to freely roam in a crescendo of unimaginable theories. You wouldn't have been able to think with all the hubbub that was occurring below your feet.

You appreciated the tranquility and solitude that this private hall offered you. However, the contentment of your silence didn't last long.

Several days had past since you discovered your valley of solitude when you were suddenly encountered by two armored guards. You couldn't see their eyes beneath their black helmets, but they seemed tense as they stood in your way. They towered over your small form, but even so, their body language betrayed how skittish they felt.

Furrowing your brows, you wondered what they were here for. You hadn't done anything bad. To be honest, you didn't even have to do anything to invoke the master of the hive's wrath. He manage to frustrate and terrify you all at once.

You looked behind the both of the guards, hoping to convey that you wanted to bypass them, but they didn't appear to take the hint. You decided you were going to have to talk your way into them letting you pass. Clearing your throat, your lips rounded the following, dispirited syllables, "Excuse me, but would you be so kind as to let me pass? If you refuse to do so," you paused at this moment to clench your teeth. If your polite disposition wasn't making them budge, your new found confidence will, "a certain someone will hear about this confrontation."

It made your skin crawl to stoop to such levels as to threaten with the Highblood's name, but you needed to learn to assert yourself with these two if you wanted to continue your corridor walking, character be damned. Your posture straightened and you held your shoulders back in an almost pitiful attempt to appear phlegmatic. You weren't budging.

And apparently, neither were they. They both exchanged a glance with each other, emotions undetectable beneath the black screen of their helmets. To be fair, they still seemed tense, but they had loosened considerably, listening to the pathetic threat which you had just made. The one on the left turned his head back to you and replied with a croaky voice.

"That 'certain someone' was the one who sent us to come find you, and he won't hesitate to eviscerate the both of us if you are not brought straight to the throne room immediately."

You were about to a reply with a witty retort, but your jaw clicked shut the second 'certain someone' was said. You both were treading around the topic and name, but if the Grand Highblood wanted your presence summoned, you must have done something that displeased him.

But . . . what could you have done? You simply kept to your thoughts and stayed out of everyone's way. What was wrong with that? Unless he knew how to get inside your mind and discover your thoughts about him through that method. Which, however unlikely, was terrifying. Could you have vexed him by merely existing? Due to his capricious behavior, it is marginally possible. But the thought was immediately banished by the reminder of the prophecy you were oh-so important to. Even if you were an annoyance to him, he couldn't kill you.

There was only one way to figure this out.

Your eyes narrowed as you lifted you chin to look the guard who had spoken you. His counterpart also tilted his head to look at you. Your jaw slacked as you spoke, "Then you may take me to this 'certain someone.'"

"Follow us."

With no further prompt, they lead the way to the room that you knew the whereabouts of almost too well.

You trailed behind them at a reasonable distance, not too far that you lost sight of them completely, but not close enough so that you would run into their backs if they were to abruptly halt. You weren't even sure why they wanted you for. They said they were bringing you to the Highblood, but they never specified a reason. It was up to your imaginative mind to think up the worst possible scenario.

You brought a delicate hand up to your face to thoughtfully stroke your chin. Perhaps the prophecy was proven to be false and he never had a use for you in the first place? Hm . . . probably not, he beliefs were as obdurate as you believed him to be. The prophecy his gods deemed true could never be false in his eyes. Scratch that one off the list.

What if they needed you back in the kitchens? Was he was there to place you back into servitude? Even that was unlikely. However, it would increase your productivity.

That thought alone had your mind in a spin.

Your productivity. It was true you had been doing absolutely nothing since you had been told about this prophecy. Nothing but theorizing about anything your mind could come up with. It was as if you were a conspiracy theorist, albeit a very poor one. However, the question on the table was, what use to him were you if you didn't do something? Suddenly him needing you back into the kitchens didn't seem so unlikely.

However, the kitchen had plenty of staff. All of them were better chefs than you could ever hope to be. So it wouldn't really be right for you to return there.

What about cleaning? You could pick that up again. Suddenly, the teal-blood that had tormented you earlier in stay here had flashed across your mind. You cringed. Okay, so cleaning was a no-go. Even if he was no longer a part of the staff, your paranoia would probably kill you before anyone else could.

So . . . what other means of productivity did you have?

You suddenly froze.

What if the Highblood wanted you as some sort of . . . companion? The thought made you shudder like you had caught a deathly chill. Absolutely not. Never would you stoop to such levels. It was horrifying to even think about.

But what if that was truly what he was calling you there for? You wouldn't do it. You couldn't do it. Following him around like a heathen concubine? How insulting. You would never even consid-

The two guards in front of you suddenly halted. Upon peering around the both of them, you realized the three of you had reached your destination. The guards didn't move. Peering up at the both of them, you noticed how rigid they stood. You didn't need to see beneath their helmets to know they felt uneasy. You would've sympathized, but the fact was you had your own fear to account for.

Of whatever he had planned waiting behind the double doors.

You felt your heart leap into your throat as you gazed toward the ominous entryway. The guards behind were conversing lowly, your delicate ears unable to pick up on their hushed tones. You didn't care, your nerves were getting to you. He can't kill you. He can't hurt you. He can't touch you. He can't touch you. He can't touch you! It was a desperate mantra that looped consistently throughout every corner of your panicked mind.

You didn't have the time to calm yourself down before a gloved hand pushed you forward toward the massive doors. The strength behind the shove was unshakable, even though your feet scrambled to get leverage on the stone floor. What was going on? The door grew nearer, and your clambering increased. However, the guard behind didn't falter in his pushing.

Suddenly, an armored limb reached out to pull the right door open. Your heels dug into the stone floor as best they could, but to no avail. The door was pulled open regardless, and your inhalations grew rapidly. This couldn't be happening.

An especially brutal shove had you tripping through the door and falling clumsily on the floor of the throne room. The landing on your stomach had sucked the wind clean out of you. With a pained grimace, you looked behind you toward the open door.

The guard standing there gave you one last look, his helmet gleaming in the light of the torches, before quickly shutting the door.

A sudden growl sounded above you, causing to twist around to look at the perpetrator. Propping yourself on your elbow, you looked up toward the gargantuan throne in the center of the room.

It hadn't even started yet, but you knew it was going to end badly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Sorry for the wait, hope this chapter was worth it. :)
> 
> Okay, pleasantries out of the way, I have some bad news :(  
> I have an event planned within the next few days, it's going to take a full week out of my schedule. Which means for you guys, that the next chapter will be delayed due to my lack of time for writing. I hope you guys will be forgiving.
> 
> (Btw, if you guys can guess who said that quote earlier in this chapter, I will be the happiest person alive.)
> 
> Please leave a comment :)


	13. An Agreement is Made

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter, just a appetizer before the main course.

There he was. Imposed in all his wicked glory.

He sickened you.

How did he just sit in this room and doze the majority of the night? It was beyond you.

Your position on the floor made him look even more imposing. The fact he was swinging his club around with his wrist like a baton was not easing that fact. It swung to and fro across his fingers hypnotically. The movement he did with ease appeared to be practiced. He didn't even bother looking at his club as it twisted around his hand. His eyes were locked square on you.

His pin-pricked pupils focused on your vulnerable form on the floor. He sighed. Heavily. Looking away from your tense from, he gave one last turn of his club before dropping it apathetically on the floor.

He seemed almost . . . tired sitting before you in his throne. Why? What could possibly give him reason for exhaustion?

He brought his massive hand up to his face to massage his temples. His eyebrows were furrowed into an even further vexed frown, his eyes squinted closed.

With a heave of his broad shoulders, he spoke to you, "Where the motherfuck have you been?" He didn't even bother to conceal how exhausted he sounded. His gravelly timbre had been uncharacteristically quiet. A fact which both concerned and relieved you.

The ear-grating roar of his usual voice was enough to chill your blood, regardless of the topic of conversation. He could be reciting a grocery list and you'd still panic like he'd just threatened your execution. The spacious area of his throne room didn't help matters, what with any noise bouncing against the towering stone walls. But what was the cause of the low whisper which he had just spoken in?

The question rang in your ears. Where had you been? What did he mean by that?  
It wasn't like you could leave the hive, so what was he asking such a stupid question? You're bound here against your will, doomed to wander the halls like an aimless vagabond and he responds with "where have you been?"

What was he, your guardian? Did he really need to know your whereabouts every second of the night? Your inner rebellious teenager was dying to tell him off, but no. You were going to be mature about this.

"I have been where I have always been. Trapped in your hive." You responded as you rose from your position from the floor. Brushing some dust off your clothing as you now stood before him. You gazed up at him. The difference in height may have been decreased, but his intimidation factor still remained at the same high number.

Especially since he didn't seem to satisfied with your answer.

He stopped massaging his temples and brought his hand down to look at you. The scleras remained a calm golden hue, but that didn't stop your hands from shaking as he stared. Those unyielding amethysts were a focused jewel that had no other interest except for you.

"That doesn't answer my motherfucking question."

You shifted your weight uncomfortably between your feet. Unlike him, your ocular organs were darting across the room ping-pong balls. The wall on your right had a shinier coat of splattered blue than the rest of the room. Possibly from a few unsuspecting guards. The torches seemed dimmer than usual, creating a sinister lighting for the unanswered question that you were avoiding.

You know what? If being mature wasn't going to cut it, you were going to give him a piece of your mind. You tried to retain your character, but this was getting ridiculous. If you couldn't at least go where you pleased in this living hell then you were going to loose it. He was asking for some snark, and it was time you gave it to him.

"Motherfucker, did you not he-"

"Why do you need to know?"

He looked affronted that you'd interrupted him, and you fought down the throat-tightening fear that came with the look he gave you. You could see his eyes darkening from beneath his massive hair. You continued regardless.

"Why do you need to know my whereabouts every second of the night? You know I can't leave this hive, because even though I know in here is hell, out there would be ten times worse. At least here I am offered protection, but the protection you are offering has been looking more like I am a criminal than a product of your prophecy. I can't take the claustrophobia of your constant guards closing in on me. It is too much for me to handle. It is way too much!" You are almost screaming by the time you finish your complaints, the heels of your hands are tightly locked against the sides of your skull.

Your heart is beating like a frightened bird trapped in a cage, the troll seated upon his throne above you makes no indication of movement. His eyes are less intense than before, but he is still focused on you. The pitiful, frail, human in his throne room.

Slowly, he leaned forward. Reaching an outstretched arm toward the side of his chair, he propped his club against the side of his throne. With both his hands free, he used his knees as support for his elbows as he rested his face in his curled knuckles. The hunched over position made him look as though he was carefully in thought.

He stayed like that for a while. The only noise in the room was the crackling of the torches and your quick, shaky breaths.

Finally, he sighed and rose from the position he had assumed. His straightened back had sought support from the back of the throne and his hands draped themselves accordingly against the arms of the elaborate chair.

"How about you and I make a motherfucking deal?" was his abrupt answer. His level baritone growl echoing off the stone walls. It was one sentence, and yet it had your mind in an even further a spin.

A deal? What could he offer you? Worse, what could you offer him? The earlier thought of companionship entered your mind and you forced down the shudder that racked your system. No, it had to be something different. If you were invaluable to this oh-so important prophecy, he surely wanted you to, at the very least, feel content in his hive.

You had no choice but to hear him out.

Releasing your skull from your grasp, you tilted your head back to get a better look at him. This deal was either going to be the best thing you would ever agree to, or the worst decision you were forced to make.

"What did you have in mind?" A civil approach. There was no sense in antagonizing him if he was making an effort to help. However, you were unsure if your civil approach method was going to continue.

"I will give you motherfucking free reign of this entire motherfucking hive. You ain't gotta fear the guards comin' after you no more," he said, talking animatedly with his hands. It was more than you could have ever hoped for, he could just order the guards to leave you alone? You were free to discuss and theorize anything and everything with no interruption? It was almost too good to be true. What could he have possibly wanted in return? "On one motherfucking condition," he said as he held up one giant hand, "you will sit by my motherfucking side every dinner I choose to have."

. . .

That was it?!

Just sit with him for however long it takes him to eat? No more guards hounding you? No more life-shortening fear that forced you into long secluded hallways away from everyone? You could almost scream you were so delighted! You didn't even question why he would want your company. You didn't bother to conceal the wide grin that flashed across your face. Your dull teeth showing in excitement.

"You, sir, have got yourself a deal."

Then he grinned with you. It was filled with yellow sharp teeth that the light of the torches flickered off of. However, you could see the same happiness in his eyes that more than likely reflected your own.

"You may take your motherfucking leave, that was all I needed."

And with the permission to go, you almost danced to the dual doors. The cold chill of the golden knob twisted in your hand, and you had never been more satisfied leaving a room. The open stretch of the corridor was open before your eyes, and you took a step forward as a happier person.

Before you could walk any farther, you remembered something. You suddenly turned around, hand still gripping the knob, and spoke to the figure in the center of the room.

"I'm glad that you didn't make me a concubine." You told him, grin still plastered on your face.

The confusion on his face was priceless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys.
> 
> A word of advice.
> 
> Leaving more comments motivates me to write faster.


	14. In Which You Eat Dinner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all are gonna either love me or hate me.

After the meeting both the Grand Highblood and you had had, tension had begun to ease. He knew that you loathed being trapped in his home and being yelled at whenever you tried to seek your own happiness, and you knew that he abhorred not knowing your whereabouts and your insubordination. The compromise that you agreed to had been the best decision he had made while you were here.

You saw him every night. And while that might have been one harrowing experience in your past, you found the encounters weren't all that unpleasant. He didn't appear to be as exhausted as he was the night of the deal, and it showed. His eyes gleamed brighter, and his smile was wider. Even if both were terrifying, he was even more terrifying when he was tired and angry. It was almost similar to the people you knew back home.

You both also had a few conversations. Albeit awkward ones, but conversations never-the-less. You just couldn't get his sense of humor, and his culture as a species had a few odd customs that you just never understood the meaning of. On the other hand, he seemed almost delighted at a few things you unintentionally did. Like that you enjoyed the fizzy, multicolored drinks that were brought to you in bejeweled goblets. You had no idea what the drink was, but to you, it tasted like knock-off brand soda. It could have been his version of ambrosia for all you knew.

The relationship between you both was a strained one, don't get you wrong, he was still a mentally unstable murderer, but you both remained civil to each other. The effect it had on you was almost palpable. You roamed where you knew you would be found by either him or the guards, and were free to think whatever you pleased, and when the time came, the guards, or if you were lucky, a friendly servant, would gently escort you to the massive dining table where you would dine and talk until he ate his share and left.

The stress that had begun to weigh down your shoulders had abruptly disappeared. You felt almost comfortable in this hive. The almost metaphorical prison had transformed itself into a place where you thrived. The only downside was, you shared your livelihood with a capricious murder.

Which wasn't all bad, as much as that statement pained you to admit. What would all of your friends and family think of you dining and living with their murderer?

What would Cygnus think?

They would probably think the same thing as you do know.

What had you done to get into this mess?

The transition between absolutely loathing the monster who had killed your greatest love and best friend to the acquaintanceship of someone who's home you shared was still in motion. There were two roads that lay before you. One lead to the acceptance of the newly found friendship of someone who had the power and the ability to either ruin or perfect your life. The other was a spark that ignited the flame of the hatred between you both.

You desperately wanted the first one, but how does one acquire the acquaintanceship of someone who's personality was so unpredictable. You had no idea how to plan out your next move.

Another philosophy of the great man replayed in your mind, 'A man watches his pear tree day after day, impatient for the ripening of the fruit. Let him attempt to force the process, and he may spoil both fruit and tree. But let him patiently wait, and the ripe pear at length falls into his lap.'

Truly wise words. The hesitant friendship you trying to form between the Grand Highblood and yourself was the pear, and you were the man. You needed patience in this relationship. You couldn't afford to be manipulative, if you were going to appeal to his better nature, this was the way to do so.

This would be your plan.

Your planning was halted by a small figure approaching you from around the corner.

Upon closure inspection, the figure was female and wearing an orange scarf. Upon spotting you, she glided over to your side, and gently took your arm. She took precaution not to prick the delicate fabric of your black sleeves with her long claws. A gesture which you appreciated. She seemed to realize you were important, unlike the impotent guards who often dragged you to dinner with a pythons-grip on your arm. With no introduction, she quickly escorted you both to the dining hall.

When trying to inquire her name, all you were given was a patient smile and a gesture to hurry. Was she mute? Or did she not want to talk to you? You assumed as such and respected what she wanted, kept silent, and let her lead you through the massive hallways until you reached your destination.

She almost had a regal appearance about her. The slope of her brow and gentle curve of her posture made it seem like you should be the one escorting her. The injustice of the blood coursing through her veins had condemned her to a life of servitude no matter what you thought. A pity. You would have liked to have seen what her disposition was like without the pressure of working under the Grand Highblood.

Come to think of it. What would the future of all the servants in hive be like if not for the blood running through their veins? What would the outcome of their lives be? The unrighteous system of which they were governed had them trapped in a society where they had no where to go. The lady escorting you could be a queen, the lead serving troll in the kitchen could be an incredible lawyer (or whatever the equivalent of a justice bringer was here), or the guards that patrolled the hives could be high ranking military generals. For the first time in your stay here, you began to understand what the rebels wanted from ransacking the hive. They wanted to be seen as equals, rather than servants.

Then something occurred to you, what would Cygnus have been? What would he have looked like without his calloused hands and bulging muscles from years of slave work? Would you have even recognized him without them? The thought startled you, of course you would recognized him. The mischievous gleam in his eyes and his charming grin would have you immediately enchanted, regardless of what he looked like.

Before you could go off on another tangent, you both entered the dining hall, where the Grand Highblood was already waiting for your arrival.

His gaze had flickered to you both, and you felt the girl beside you stiffen. From across the room, he straightened, and beckoned you over to him. His eyes, however breathtaking, did not invite refusal.

Your imagined queen loosened the grip on your arm allowing you to snake the appendage through. You started an awkward pace toward the seat beside the Highblood, taking a precaution not to look at him when you walked. Climbing, yes, climbing, into the chair that stood tall beside him, you straightened your spine to see over the table. You felt like a toddler that had to sit on a few extra cushions just to gaze at everyone sitting at the table. However, there was no one else even in the dining hall beside yourself and the troll you were dining with.

Picking up the goblet on your right, your took a dainty sip of the fizzy substance and snuck a glance on the opposite side of you. The Grand Highblood had his unwavering stare set on you. You nearly choked on the grape drink you were inhaling. He still continued to stare. His posture held firm, and he hadn't touched his plate. Which was quite uncharacteristic of him, for he had an enormous appetite at all times. He seemed to have no interest in his covered palette, but on you.

You felt like a deer in his crosshairs. What had gotten into him today? Setting the drink down, you turned in your seat to face him, and worked up the courage to ask him a question.

"So . . . how has your night been?"

Suave. Real suave.

What were you, a disinterested spouse asking what your husband did at the job they hated? What were you thinking? A bold move, considering the usual quiet persona you usually embodied when at the dinner table. Even when you were back on earth, your stayed silent when eating. Only speak when spoken to, a philosophy your guardian had taught you. A philosophy that stayed with you, even if it wasn't one from the great man.

However, you desired his friendship. No, you _needed_ his friendship. It was a priority that you needed his alliance to stay alive. And if it meant forgoing your guardian's wisdom, so be it. Desperation made people reckless, you were beginning to witness this firsthand. You needed-

"My night's goin' motherfuckin' miraculous as hell, now that your fine ass self is here."

The interruption was unexpected and unwarranted. You wish you could have seen the blank look on your face.

Was he . . . was he flirting with you?

It was true you both had gotten along these past few weeks, but nothing could have prepared you for that. What had you done for him to actually want you in his presence? What did you do for him to find your disposition pleasing?

You gripped the edge of the giant table with white knuckles. How does one respond to this. He basically put you in verbal entrapment. You head was running a mile a minute, you needed to respond to him or else risk the fear of offending him.

"That's nice of you to say," your voice traitorously cracking on the word 'nice,' and you couldn't help but hate yourself.

The conversation took an abrupt, awkward halt, like someone had slammed the brakes on both of your dialogues. There was tension in the air, you could smell it. Or maybe that was the food in front of you. A metaphorical lightbulb lit up over your delicate head. Food was a perfect distraction to get out of talking, or in this case, an awkward silence.

Lifting the fork to your lips, you took dainty bites of the orange, meaty-looking loaf on your ornate plate. Whatever this meat was, it tasted spicy. Really spicy. Oh man, what did the kitchen trolls put in this dish? Chili peppers?

You felt your eyes watering, a blurry film covered your eyes the more you tried to eat. You made a desperate grab for your drink before you made a fool of yourself coughing. It was rude to reach across the table, but you doubted your host had ever had a proper etiquette lesson in his life, plus you needed that drink.

You swung the beverage back like you were taking a shot of straight vodka. The relief was instant. The fluid rushed down your throat in the most relieving sensation you've ever felt. It tasted like ripe, plump grape this evening, and boy, grape never had tasted so delicious.

You may have gotten a little bit overzealous in drinking, because one minute the drink was spilling down your esophagus, the next it was pouring down your shirt.

Of course.

Before you could even think about feeling sorry for yourself, you were interrupted by loud, raucous laughter.

Looking to the head of the table, you noticed the Grand Highblood laughing hysterically at you. The kind of laughter that leaves you wheezing after your finished. He looked too happy for you to be offended. You took one look at yourself, and started laughing too. Not as hard as he was, but still pretty hard. You did look pretty ridiculous.

Better yet, the awkward silence had dissipated.

After that, the two of you began to converse easier. You asked him what he did during his night, and he asked you if grape faygo (so that was the name of the drink you liked so much?) was your favorite. You both shared a few more laughs before he left to his throne room, like he always did after dinner. For you, you wanted to get cleaned off as soon as possible with a change of new clothes.

So you did just that.

It had taken you awhile to wash off, but the feeling of satisfaction you got from getting that sticky soda off you felt amazing. Not to mention the feeling of soft clothes against your bare skin.

You stifled a yawn as you entered your room. Walking over to your bed, you lifted the covers to crawl underneath the blankets. It was still pretty early in the night, but stress of your thoughts had left you drained, so you quickly fell into a deep slumber, awaiting the dreams that would come to you.

. . .

A voice had carried you from your slumber, your heavy eyelids straining at the difference of light. The sun had just sunk below the horizon, the stars not even daring to enter the sky yet. No troll on the planet would be insipid enough to be out at this time. However, the voice still continued to coo your name. You took this as a cue that the voice was not a hallucination from your dreams. Not only did the voice sound real, it was almost affectionate as it spoke.

As the last of the drowsiness left you, you blinked your eyes open to see someone looking at you. His head was propped on his elbow, considerate of his two horns, and his half-lidded, vermillion eyes held depths of unending adoration for you.

Before your flabbergasted self could utter his name, he flashed you his infamous charming grin.

"Oh, how I've missed you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gee, I wonder who that could be.


	15. A Choice is Made

"Cygnus!"

You squeaked in surprise. How was he here? What could have occurred for him to be here? It didn't matter, you weren't going to question a miracle.

He was here, in front of you. The same lively smile on his face as he looked at you.

Upon closer inspection of him, you noticed several things different about him. Several things that were missing.

The left side of his face was horribly disfigured, the skin on his cheek and jaw appeared to have a rougher texture than the rest of his face. His left eye was covered with an eye patch, you knew beneath the black piece of fabric there was nothing but an empty socket. One of his horns was broken off too, leaving the right side of his head bearing the weight the the other heavy horn.

He had a very rugged look about him, like he had been living in he woods for a few weeks. The bags beneath his one eye was very prominent. His pupil was blown too big to be healthy, but how could you care? He was standing in your room, alive. You hadn't felt this happy in goodness know how long. The charming gleam in his eye and his wide smile had you nearly melting all over again. You didn't care what he looked like, he still acted like the sweet troll that had saved your life all those months ago.

"Come here, let me hug you," he spoke as he reached an arm out toward you. As he said the words, you wasted no time in throwing the blankets off, and launching yourself into his embrace. You didn't care that he looked like scraggly troll pirate. He was your Cygnus and he would never change.

But something felt off as he held you. He was doing it with only one arm. What happened? You remembered before his ''death'' he would take every opportunity to hold you close with both arms, clutching you to his chest like you were a long lost lover.

Ironically, that seemed to be the case.

Pulling away from him, you went to ask him why he seemed so hesitant to squeeze you like he used to. Perhaps he feared his appearance disgusted you and wanted to keep his distance. Like you were a person petty enough to care about appearances. As you affectionately touched his shoulder, you noticed why he didn't hug with both arms.

He didn't have both of them.

The bandaged stump on his left side had revealed itself beneath the black cloak around his shoulders. The dirty white cloth had been tied haphazardly around the end of the appendage. A blatant reminder that he was once on the edge of death, ready to take the plunge into disappearing from the plane of existence for eternity.

You didn't realize you were staring until he spoke up.

"Hey, listen, I know I'm as handsome as ever, but I think we don't have time for you to just sit and gawk at me." He teased as he flexed his right arm, which had not loss its bulk since you had last seen him.

You let out a flustered chortle, and a heavy weight was lifted off of your heart. He was still the lovable sweetheart that you knew when you were just a timid servant scrubing the halls. It felt good to be in his presence again. Goodness, how could you have lived so long without this?

But there was something that threw you off about what he said. The both of you didn't have time? Time for what?

"Cygnus, I've missed you too, and I'm sorry for staring, but what do you mean? We have all the time in the world," at this you paused taking his hand, "and I don't want to waste a second of it without you."

He smiled again. It seemed he was just as charmed by you as you were by him. That made you feel a bit better, if he strove to be such a charmer around you, maybe if was a reflection of how flustered you made him feel.

"Listen," he leaned closer into you, briefly looking behind him as he did so,"there has been a break in of rebels in the hive, they're here working against the higher castes, like the Grand Highblood. I'm a part of them, I convinced them to let come to your room in order to free you from here. We need to leave quickly, before the guards figure out I'm here." He didn't even give you enough time to process the information. Wasting no time in lifting you off the bed, with one arm no less, he ran out the door with you clutching his hand.

You felt time slow as you both darted down the hallway. Cygnus was with the rebels? Suddenly flashes of your memory started to make sense. How the earlier raid had occurred, how the winged troll knew where to find you. The inexplicable fragments that made no sense suddenly began to piece together like a puzzle.

How could you have been so blind? His comrades probably snuck in to retrieve his supposed "dead" body after the incident with the Grand Highblood. That's why you couldn't find his corpse! The sudden knowledge had jolted you like a stab in the back.

"You were with the rebels all this time and you never told me?" You whispered a shout at him, the crease in your eyebrows furrowing as you thought back on the time you had first met. How you could have been so blind on the subtle cues?

"Yes, be quiet! I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier," he continued to tug you around corridors as his eyes flickered at the walls. Your patience was wearing thin as he wore out the muscles on your arm, "but the Highblood's tyranny needs to be stopped. Do you remember what they did to the Signless? Just because he dared to speak his mind? We need to eradicate them, before they eradicate us." He hissed his answer through his fanged teeth.

What had happened to the sweet, unpolitical darling you knew? What had those rebels done to him? Where did he get these ideas? Eradicating an entire populous? Where had these genocidal tendencies come from?

You opened your mouth the ask him what was going on, he suddenly halted. He nearly caused you to run into his back. Irritated, you looked over his shoulder to see another troll wearing a similar cloak crouching in the middle of the crossways between the four hallways. Upon, closer inspection, they had the same rugged appearance as Cygnus did. Were they his lookout?

When they noticed the both you, they looked around before lifting off their hood.

Oh. They were a she.

The first thing you noticed was her striking eyes. Heterochromatic, and squinted suspiciously at you. She remained in a fighting stance, yet no longer crouched as Cygnus tugged you her way. You followed him awkwardly, not wanting to be any closer to the she-troll than you had to.

"Is this the human, Cyg?" She arched an unimpressed eyebrow at you, crossing her arms. She had the voice of an someone who smoked a pack a day. If she was as cynical as you thought she was, then it was a wonder how Cygnus could have gotten as close as he did to earn a nickname. Maybe it wasn't just you he had unleashed all his charms on. The thought had an ugly emotion unfurling inside of you. You liked this troll even less now.

"What other humans are on the planet, Auriga? I swear, this is the one." It flattered you more than it should have when he referred to you as "the one." You had to restrain from grinning at the troll who possessed name "Auriga." You hoped that you didn't come off as petty as you felt. You had a character to uphold.

"Alright then, we need to leave. There is no time to waste, there are blue bloods lurking around every corner." She seemed impatient to get out the hive, that much was obvious, but the question was, where was she going to take the both of you? Judging by their scraggly appearance, you didn't want to guess . . . but it was for the best. Right?

However neither of them gave you any time to voice your opinion as the booked it down the corridor, leaving you to chase after them. Their bigger build made them faster with higher stamina, and you struggled to keep up with them through the winding corridors.

Both you and Auriga used Cygnus as a guide as he navigated the twisting servant quarters toward your destination. Which hopefully was not where you thought it was. You didn't navigate the servant areas as often as you used to when you worked here, but hopefully you remembered enough to identify the way toward the entrance door. A place you prayed that Cygnus stayed away from. You were loathe to admit it, but the safety and quiet of the hive was beginning to grow on you. As was the conversations between the Highblood and you.

Yet . . . the appeal of spending the rest of your time at Cygnus's side was undeniable. You were torn, safety or happiness? Happiness or safety? One could perhaps grow into the other, or the other way around.

Eventually, Cygnus had brought the two of you to the dining hall. You felt your heart sink in to your stomach. This was the same place that the rebel's destruction had occurred all those months ago.

The scene before you was almost nostalgic.

The armored guards were battling the rebels with fierce strength and organized numbers. The rebels had no such dignity. They scrambled with their hissing teeth and cruel weapons, striking fast and relentless. The Highblood had yet to make an appearance, which was concerning.

"What are they doing?! This was supposed to be an espionage mission!" Auriga growled in her gravelly voice, huffing long and heavily with her hands rubbing her temples. With the rebels' bodies being thrown left and right, it was easy to see why she was so upset.

"Forget them, they chose to defy orders, they can find the camp without us. Cyg, let's move." She stated, and Cygnus and herself started toward the entrance. You turned from the fight, ready to follow, when you were startled by a deafening roar that shook the dining hall.

Oh no.

You froze where you were, unable to turn around and face the enraged beast behind you. You didn't need to turn around to know he was throwing rebel bodies left and right. Those he didn't throw had their bones crushed by his splattered club. Craning your head, you peered behind you to watch the savagery unfold.

He was turning his massive frame left and right. His eyes flickering madly, like he was searching for something in the crowd of trolls who wished for his head. Almost distractedly, he began massacring the beings around him, unintentionally painting his clubs and claws a warm palette.

Suddenly, his eyes locked with yours near the front of the room. You were suddenly caught off guard. An emotion passed in his eyes, for less than a second, but it was there. Fear. But what for?

It was gone as soon as it came when he stared at then trolls beside of you, recognition burned bright in his face as he saw Cygnus. You witnessed his lip curl in fury as your lover grabbed your arm to guide you toward the door.

"C'mon! We have to leave before he kills us next!" His tenor voice shook with fear as he saw the Highblood stare him down.

Leave? Leave where?

Outside toward the planet unknown in its mystery and danger? With your life at risk everyday? The hive you flourished in had become a sort of sanctuary for you to roam as you pleased, safe from anyone and anything.

But . . . outside where the stars had glittered brighter than the rarest of diamonds. The place where you could finally breathe in the fresh air underneath the vibrant sky. Where you could look and feel and smell everything without the blockade of a crystal wall.

Should you really go? The beauty of the outside world beckoned you, but the safety inside promised a long life.

Peering in the fierce eyes of the Highblood, you wondered what a life by his side would be like. In some odd sense, he enjoyed your company. You were the prophet of his beloved Messiahs, and you doubted he would see you leave his home without resistance.

You looked back at Cygnus and the new troll, Auriga. If you went with them, you could spend the rest of your life with him. However, a life on the run would be far cry from the luxury you lived in now.

Your eyes flickered between the two choices. The chaos of the battle was still ongoing. With a determined gleam in your eye, you turned toward the option you knew you wanted to go with.

The rest of your life was sealed as you stepped in the direction of your choice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't kill me guys, please. Okay, so I hope this chapter was to your liking, be patient with me while I work on the next one. Thank you.
> 
> Also, another system of voting! :D  
> You guys are going to pick a number between 1 and 20. Again, depending on the number you pick, you will either make or break this story!
> 
> Write me an encouraging comment! They make my day :)


	16. Happiness or Safety

Before you could take a single step toward the safety of the Grand Highblood, you were jerked away by a single strong arm and taken to the heavy entrance door.

Auriga wasted no time in yanking the golden handle and pulling one of the dual doors open with impressive strength. She darted out the door like the devil was on her heels, and Cygnus was quick to follow with you.

Wait, no! You didn't want to leave the safety of the hive. You didn't want to leave your sanctuary where you knew you'd be protected. The murderer who lurked the halls kept you safe, and you eventfully grew fond of his acquaintanceship. You didn't want to leave! You couldn't leave. What were they thinking?

Before you had time to demand what they thought they were doing, all three of you were out of the entrance door, running toward the massive pink trees in the distance. Cygnus's grip on your arm was sure to leave bruises later, if you even three lived to 'later', who knew what even lived in the foreboding forest you all were heading towards.

You peered around at your surroundings, taking massive gulps of fresh air as your chest lifting and fell at a worrisome pace.

The massive white bark towered above all of you, and the limbs of the trees seemed to reach farther into the nighttime sky than your eyes could see. The trees' delicate bubblegum leaves fluttered in the breeze, swirling in the air and flying straight off their limbs unto the heads of the three of you.

Sweeping them out of your hair, you looked upward. You squinted to see the moons hovering above the planet, dwarfing you by comparison. They seemed to be glaring down at you, like they disapproved of you being in their presence. Gazing at them behind the tall windows of the Grand Highblood's hive was acceptable, but this was their domain, and you were not welcome here.

You were fine, if not perfect, in his hive. But their realm was to be untouched by you, and anyone of your kind. No one could protect you out here, in the barren savagery of an alien planet.

You felt unsafe. Anything, troll or otherwise, could attack at any second, and you were defenseless. Both Cygnus and Auriga had incredible brute strength to guard against foes, but a brittle bodied human like you? You were an easy target, ready for consumption. Why did they think it was a good idea to bring you out here?

Trying to wriggle your arm free of Cygnus's grasp, you felt obliged to tell him as such.

Digging your heels in the earth, you refused to run anymore. If they dragged you out here, you were going to find out why. You deserved an answer. Chances were, you would not survive the next hour, so if you wanted answers, you needed to ask now.

"Stop dragging your feet, we need to keep going!" Cygnus responded by grasping your arm tighter, his horned head gesturing forward to where Auriga was, which was several feet away from you both. "We need to get to the camp before the moons are centered in the sky, and we can't accomplish that if we are standing here dragging our feet. Now let's go!" He followed his last sentence with an especially powerful tug on your arm. It was strong enough to lurch you forward, but your heels remained anchored to the earth. You were not moving until you had an answer.

"What happens if we don't get there in time? What happens if we are lost out here until the sun rises? What if we are killed before we reach safety? You both may be equipped to defend yourselves, but I am not. I was perfectly safe in The Grand Highblood's hive, but out here? Anything looking for an easy meal could be out to get me! Why did you-" before you could even ask why they thought it would a good idea to carry you away, you were interrupted by a savage growl in the trees behind you.

A shrill scream erupted from your mouth before you had time to stop it. Instinctively, you clung to Cygnus, praying he could protect you from the savage animal in the trees behind the three of you.

A giant, four-legged creature bounded out from the woods to your left, and halted in your path. The eye on its forehead briefly peering at the three of you before gracefully galloping away out of sight.

"This is what I was talking about! We're going to die before we even reach your camp!"

Instead of defending themselves, the trolls beside of you had the audacity to laugh at your panicked behavior. Auriga had a grey hand clamped over her mouth trying to muffle her ear-grating laughter. Cygnus on the other hand, had his only arm wrapped around you, while throwing his head back in delight.

"The human is just as easily startled as a wriggler! It's only a stray lusus, there's no need to be so scared." The she-troll's smoky voice had only increased in its hoarseness as she spoke in your direction. In your embarrassed state, you didn't hear her tone of voice, and her words stung you as being condescending.

Humiliated, you wrenched yourself out of Cygnus's grasp, and ran in a random direction. It didn't matter, as long as you were away from their laughs and degradation. A part of you heard your name being called in a panicked tenor yell behind you, but you continue running.

They decide to take you from the Grand Highblood's hive, the only place you felt safe on this entire planet, and the first thing they do when taking you out, is laugh at you? For something perfectly understandable?

Just as the situation couldn't get any worse, you suddenly fell flat on your face. The shock of the fall rendered you frozen for a few seconds. Your heart was pounding out of your chest and suddenly the stress of the situation was too much for you to handle. Supporting yourself up on one arm, you reached up to feel tears cascading down your scrunched face. Wonderful. If you didn't want Cygnus and Auriga to see you before you ran off, you definitely didn't want it now.

Speak of the devil, you heard a frantic yell of your name just a few feet behind you, they sound as if they have been out of breath.

You let out a defeated sigh, and just rested your face against the oddly colored grass beneath your body. Let them come, what's the use of keeping them away anymore? You were never going to get back to your safe haven.

"Are you okay? I'm sorry I laughed at you, I really am, but we hav-" you didn't even wait for Cygnus to finish his sentence before you interrupted him with the question you have been dying for him to answer.

"Why did you take me away?"

"What?" The fool.

"Why did you take me from the Grand Highblood's hive?" You specified, hoping he would give a straightforward answer before your patience wore thin.

"How could you ask such a question? You and I both now he a mentally unstable murderer! How could you even have stood it in there? He has no moral code and kills who he pleases, when he pleases. And it's all for the sake of his twisted religion. He is only one of the hundreds of sugjugglators across Alternia who oppress and demean our people. He, like all other highbloods, much be terminated."

You merely looked up at him from the ground. Your mouth open in shock, what had happened to him? Progressively throughout his speech, you could witness his eyes filling further and further to the brim with hate and malice. Who could have turned your beloved Cygnus, who always managed to make you smile, into such a angry, blood-lusting monster?

He must have noticed your horrified expression, because he shook his head and picked you up from off the ground. Suddenly the feeling of grass against your body was replaced by his hand.

The grip on your arm was gentle, and the brushing of his calloused thumb against your skin was making you go weak in your knees.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have shouted. I'm grateful your safe and with me, and I may have gotten too passionate, but you know how I am when I get passionate. " he finished his sentence by winking at you.

The look on your face must have been priceless. He took one look and decidedly burst into laughter. The kind where you have to grip your stomach with how painfully your lungs are heaving.

You smiled underneath the shyness that had bubbled to the surface. There he was. There was the Cygnus that you knew. You could handle him laughing at you, if this was the reason. He may have flare ups in his temper, but he will never change, no matter what will come, and that's all that matters.

Rising from his bent-over position, he leaned forward in a bow, out stretching his hand in a gesture for you to take it.

"Shall we?" He said giving you a charming smile as he looked into your dried eyes. You felt your heart flutter like you were a school girl getting the attention of her crush.

With a nod, you took his grey hand, and he rose from his bow. Entwining his fingers with yours, you both walked toward where Auriga was, and started on your journey toward their camp.

You knew now, you would rather pick happiness over safety, and happiness was by his side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhh, sorry for the wait! Hope this chapter was worth it!
> 
> I'm excited to write out the following chapters, and hopefully the introduction of new characters with be apparent. 
> 
> Don't worry, it won't all be sunshine and rainbows. Trouble will definitely be brewing. If you think GHB is going to let his prophet go without a fight, you have something else coming.
> 
> Stay tuned ;)


	17. The Rebel Camp

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a short uneventful chapter, I know. It's just to keep you guys content until I write the next few chapters. Enjoy!

The rebel camp was nothing like you expected.

At the most you expected a few crudely made tents with hungry and sick trolls huddling under the poor protection that the camp provided. Perhaps there would be maybe one or two healers darting around attending the sick or wounded. At the very least, you expected the rebel group to be small.

It was not small.

The hidden area behind the forrest's cliff looked to be larger than the park you used to frequent back home. The tents scattered across the meadow were similar colors to the bubblegum leaves of the trees behind the three of you. Each individual tent looked to be the size of a garden gazebo. If you were not looking specifically for them, you would have mistaken their makeshift hives for colorful trees dotting the pasture below.

You were impressed with their camouflage, but there was something peculiar about them. You had yet to see any form of life emerge from a single tent. Perhaps their tent count was more numerous than you originally imagined, but the individuals that lived inside them had yet to make an appearance. Maybe your suspicions were correct, maybe their rebel group was paltry in terms of volunteers.

Turning to Cygnus, you asked him the whereabouts of the rebels. The moons were high in the sky, and it was strange that the troll camp members would hide during the night. You knew the nocturnal species thrived during this time, and it was unusual to see so many tents with so little people about. The Grand Highblood's servants seemed to regard the sun with unparalleled fear, almost as if it were supernatural. Between the fear of the Highblood himself, and the sun, it was a wonder they got any of their work finished. The trolls here didn't have any superior power like the Highblood around, so what was their excuse?

Before Cygnus could answer you, Auriga took it upon herself to answer for him. The croak of her voice was edged with grumpy impatience. The more she talked, the more gravely her voice became, and it became more and more difficult to understand the low register of her voice.

"No one is outside because they are waiting for us to get back. The other rebels we took with us to attack The Grand Highblood's hive were some of our best warriors. If the rest of them were outside and someone managed to hear them, they'd be slaughtered like grubs. So I told them to stay inside for their own safety."

You considered her words for a moment. What authority did she have to tell the other rebels to hide in their tents? You wondered just who you were talking to. Debating the consequences, you worded your next statement carefully. You were curious, but not curious enough to be yelled at by an angry she-troll with orange claws sharper than any knife you had ever used.

"You must have a lot of power if the entire group listened to your orders." You spoke with a meek voice, lilting your words to make them sound more curious and flattering, rather than a question of her power.

Instead of growling at you, like you originally suspected, she grinned like a shark at your compliment. Her teeth looked almost as sharp as her nails, and her underbite told you she had a powerful jaw, but she looked pleased. Your flattery payed off when she told you exactly what you wanted to know.

"Human, you're looking at the leader of this faction of rebels." She paused to lift her chin with confidence before addressing you again, "Do you think they would listen to anybody else if they were told to stay inside during the prime hours of the night?"

You began to see Auriga in a new light. She was in charge of this group? The raids on the The Highblood's hive were all because of this one troll? She was behind all of their anarchic warfare?

You looked at her build. You expected someone who could lead a massive number of trolls to have an intimidating and regal look about them. Auriga, like Cygnus, wore a black cloak that was torn and dirty in places. The leather boots on her feet were probably the most expensive piece of clothing on her.

She wasn't much in the muscle department either. Your Cygnus had toiled enough years in slavery to earn a build like a brick wall, unyielding to all foes who stood before him. Even the cloak he wore did nothing to disguise the giant bicep that lay hidden underneath the dark fabric. Auriga, contrary wise, was built like a soft pillow. The she-troll was all curves. If not for her curved horns, sharp teeth, and grey skin, you probably would have mistaken her for a human. She had a similar build to a woman in a Renaissance painting, someone who had lived with enough luxury to have more weight than a person who had suffered during strife and battle. She looked more like a spoiled noble than a war-hardened general.

You bit your tongue, she probably wouldn't appreciate an insolent human telling her she didn't look like their definition of a leader. Hopefully she didn't see the skepticism on your face as you looked her up and down.

Deciding to change the subject before you could make a fool of yourself in front of your resurrected sweetheart and insult the leader of a powerful group of guerrilla warfare experts, you decided to ask Auriga a question regarded her beloved group. It was clear she took pride in it from the way her chest puffed out like a preening peacock. Maybe your capitalization of flattery would earn you some amount of trust with her.

"So how many rebels do you have?" You turned your head toward the many tents settled below you. Still and silent without any form of life, their covers flapped in the slow wind coming from the trees. The only sound coming from below was the rustling of the trees surrounding them.

"My sanction has around five hundred. In the entire rebellion? I wouldn't know. There is little news since the death of the Signless, but I know that the spark of revolution still burns bright in the hearts of lowbloods all across Alternia, and we will not stop until every Highblood bastard is killed." The passion and low register of her voice startled you. Her words were reminiscent of Cygnus's back in the forest. Your brows furrowed in suspicion. Perhaps she was the one feeding him all of these ideas about genocide? Was she the one who poisoned his mind into thinking about toppling the hierarchy?

You could see how these thoughts like these had appealed to him. You had also been a servant in the Highblood's home, and if was unpleasant for you, it must have been hell for him. The more you thought back on all the work you thought was strenuous, the cleaning and the cooking, the more ungrateful your past self sounded. At least you were inside, under the curious and protective eye of the Highblood. Cygnus probably worked outside, under the cruel and unfeeling eyes of the guards who had no problem executing unfair punishments toward those lower than them. Auriga's plans for an uprising must have been very tempting. A chance at revenge against those who had wronged him, how could he refuse?

Your thoughts delved deeper into your past. Even when Cygnus was suffering under their malevolence, he saw you in your miserable state and decided it was his duty to help you. You worked inside, and he must have known the consequences about hiding you from the The Grand Highblood, but he did it anyway. He offered you a place in the kitchen and his friendship, and your heart was helpless against his kind and noble spirit.

If you thought you couldn't fall any further, you were wrong.

Even if he took you away from the only safe place you knew on his planet, he did it because he thought it was best for you. He knew a different Highblood than you did, and the closer you were to the tyrannical figure, the more Cygnus feared for your safety. So he took you to the place he knew you could be safe.

Here.

Even if it didn't feel as safe as the Highblood's hive, you could learn to enjoy it just as much with him at your side. Hopefully.

"Well I think we've had enough time standing here looking down on our beautiful camp, I'd like to get down there before the sun rises." Your lover wastes no time in walking down a hidden pathway that lead to the tents in the meadow below, briefly looking behind to see if you were following him.

"Cyg is right." Auriga stated while walking beside you, "hopefully our surviving members will be quick to come back from our "espionage" mission." Her first and index fingers folded twice by her head when she spoke the word "espionage."

She may not look like a leader, but you needed to earn her friendship or else life here may be harder than it necessarily needed to be. Cygnus managed to gain her favor, as shown by the affectionate nickname she bestowed on him. Perhaps, with time, she would give you a nickname as well?

This would take time. You knew she was suspicious of you, and maybe her influence would be powerful in the base. The sooner you showed her that she could trust you, the easier life would be down there.

You would need Cygnus's help, but surely your life would be better by his side in an unsafe world, than a life with the Grand Highblood in a protected world.

. . .

Right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think it's established at this point that the protagonist doesn't miss GHB, she just misses his hive lmao.  
> (I don't blame her, I'd miss living in such a big house too.)
> 
> Tell me what you think of this chapter! And be sure to leave a comment!


	18. The Jury Has Come to A Conclusion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'M ALIVE Y'ALL

As the three of you neared ever closer toward the camp, an inkling in the back of your mind refused to leave you. It was a question that had been festering in your head, and it only grew the longer you tried to suppress it. Fearful of confronting it, you simply shoved it as far as you possibly could out of your mind's eye. That proved to be a horrible idea when there was nothing for you to think about. The peaceful forest around you, and the fact that Cygnus was only an arms reach away had lulled you into a sense of safety and tranquility.

It only left the perfect opportunity to have that dreaded question sneak up on you.

What if the The Grand Highblood comes after you?

You were a fool to think that he would let his beloved prophet escape without a fight. You were integral to some great scheme that he assumed you were apart of. His Messiahs deemed that you needed to be at his side to interpret some cosmic event. Letting you leave would be a travesty. He would no doubt be sending a search party after you.

Another inkling managed to snake its way into your thoughts. Was his religion the only reason he kept you close? You thought back on all the moments that occurred between the both of you in the hive. The free reign he gave you, the awkward dinners, his cautious protection of your person, these actions did not seem like requirements from a religious text. He seemed to want to become closer to you. For his brutal and caliginous personality, you should have felt flattered by his effort. You only felt confusion. Did he expect something from you? Was friendship required for this prophecy?

Perhaps that is why he pushed himself out of his comfort zone for your benefit? For the value of your companionship? Either way, you knew he was not going to let you leave without a fight. You could only imagine the destruction he and his guards would cause in their wake as they tracked the three of you down. You knew of his distaste for Cygnus, he would no doubt slaughter him on sight, but what would happen to Auriga and you?

The shudder that ran through your system at the horrible thought got the attention of Auriga. She cocked her head horned toward you, and you gave her a smile in return. It felt more like a grimace, but hopefully she wouldn't notice. You needed to get into the habit of being friendly to her. She doesn't need to be anymore suspicious of you than she already was.

Appearing satisfied that you were fine, she turned her head away from you and continued to eye her camp as the three of you got closer to it.

A strange sort of guilt began to plague your mind as you watched Auriga. It was obvious she adored the rebel faction she was in charge of, and she was taking a massive gamble in letting you stay here. Then again, it was easy to see why she did it. Cygnus could be very persuasive. If the Grand Highblood managed to find this place in his conquest for you, you could only imagine the destruction that would come to pass.

You gripped the fabric of your thin clothes. The bones of your knuckles contrasted greatly against the thin, black fabric. You didn't need to stress yourself to death about this. Your hair was going to turn silver at this rate, and how would explain that to your traveling companions? You took a deep breathe.

You needed to remain calm. You were perfectly safe from the Highblood here deep in the Alternian forests. Cygnus, your love, was by your side, and Auriga was here was as well. The camp below was very well camouflaged, and there were bound to be many armed and strong trolls in it.

You only hoped they were open-minded enough to accept you.

...

You were unprepared for the flood of excitement coming to greet your arrival.

Trolls of every age and warm hue flooded from the pink tents like autumn leaves tumbling in the breeze. Their sharp tooth grins were as enthused as could be as they surrounded the two trolls traveling alongside you. A few even hugged your companions. Soon, they all began chattering and growling in a chaotic symphony of excited, animalistic noises. Both Cygnus and Auriga patiently answered every noise the rebels made. They too, appeared content basking in the attention given to them by the camp members.

You were a bit frustrated you couldn't understand the rebels and share in their enthusiasm. Perhaps you could share their excitement if you understood them? Unfortunately, your throat lacked the ability to make the sharp trills and low clicks.

How was it you could understand Cygnus, Auriga, and even the Grand Highblood, without fail, but trolls foreign to you had no comprehension of what you were saying? Was it a matter of linguistics?

Before your frustration and quizzical theories could consume you, Cygnus had shouted something and gestured in your direction. The rebels curiosity suddenly drifted to you, and unlike Cygnus and Auriga, you did not bask in their attention.

The younger trolls had no qualms scrambling toward you to squeak and purr out what you could only guess were questions. A few even pointed at your skin and hair, gesturing at the peculiar color. It was similar experience to being surrounded by a group of human children. You might have been less anxious if they were human children, but still, they behaved pretty similarly.

They all crowded around you, the closer ones tentatively touching your clothing and hands. Murmuring to themselves in their clicking tongue. You had no clue if what the younger trolls were saying was good or bad, but one look at the older ones and it was clear how they felt about you.

The cold looks on their faces had revealed just how unwelcome you were in this encampment. The older ones ages ranged from a little older than you to old enough to have wrinkles embedded in their skin. They eyed you as if you were a cockroach scuttling around on the floor. Unwanted, and easily disposed of.

You weren't sure if they distrusted you because you were an alien species they had never encountered before, or the fact that uncalloused hands and smooth skin betrayed the comfortable life you lead. The fine material of your clothes revealed you to be a high ranking servant, also. Material that someone with a high status would be the only one able to get. It showed how valuable you were. They knew your "owner" would be on the lookout for you, and the rebels would have to be stupid to let you into their camp and take the punishment for your supposed "kidnapping."

Perhaps Cygnus and Auriga could convince them otherwise. You had no where else to go otherwise. Who knows how far away the Grand Highblood's hive was, and you would have no idea which direction to start walking in to find it in the first place.

So if they refused to let you in, you were at the mercy of Alternian wilderness.

You desperately hoped Cygnus and Auriga persuaded them of your good qualities. You may look strange and defenseless, but surely there was some way for you to contribute to their cause.

Perhaps you could help around the base?

The younger trolls seemed fascinated by you, so perhaps they could have you watch over them? They didn't seem too different from human kids, so it wouldn't be difficult.

Or maybe you could teach them about human culture? Like technologies from your world that they didn't have here. Once they began to get used to you, you could perhaps entertain them with wild stories from back on Earth.

Hopefully there was something productive you could do.

Before you could think of any other ideas to persuade them you heard your name being called in Auriga's raspy croak. Startled, you looked away from the minitrolls below you, toward where your traveling companions had gathered.

Which was among the judgemental older trolls.

Taking a deep breath, you walked toward the congregated group. The small trolls quickly cleared the way, their tiny eyes blinking a farewell as they ambled off to the latest thing grabbing their attention.

Your sweaty palms were clenching the fabric of your clothes as you grew closer to them. This with either going to go swimmingly or it was going to burst into flames.

When you entered their circle, Cygnus wasted no time reaching his only arm around your shoulders and holding you close. It was a small comfort, but it was none-the-less appreciated. You hoped your smile conveyed your gratitude. Auriga clicked low tones in her throat while gesturing toward you as she spoke to the other trolls. Her expression was unreadable, but Cygnus's grin was a good sign as he rubbed up and down your upper arm.

One troll with horns similar to a giraffe rumbled low in their throat as their beady eyes flickered to your clothes. You didn't understand a word they said, but the hard line of their mouth translated everything they thought about you.

Auriga's face appeared neutral and in control, which was more of a relief than you were willing to admit. She curled her tongue underneath her teeth and made a deep sound in her throats as she, hopefully, tried to plead your case.

You had never been to court, but you would imagine it would be something like how this was playing out. You had been accused of a crime and were on trial with Auriga as your lawyer and the rebel trolls as the jury. Auriga would be trying to prove your innocence and the rebel trolls would decide if you were guilty or not.

Auriga told you that she was leader of her faction, but it was clear she sought council with the members of her group. You appreciated the fact that she was democratic, but that appreciation was stretching thin as you noted her council was ready and willing to throw you out into the forest to fend for yourself.

As if sensing your distress, Cygnus hugged you a little closer to him. You could feel the powerful muscles in his arm and side as they provided a comforting protection against the hateful thoughts of Auriga's council.

Cygnus leaned down to whisper something in your ear, being careful of his horns on the way down. His breath against your ear caused your insides to ignite, but his words had enveloped you with a sense of calm.

"Don't worry, Auriga's making sure you stay with me. The council looks stubborn, but they normally give in when she argues for a while."

Auriga appeared as diplomatic as you'd ever seen her. She was on parallel with the heads of state you saw back on Earth. The moody elderly trolls seemed petulant and hateful as they darted their suspicious eyes between their leader and yourself.

Even if you could understand the trolls around you, the time they took on arguing would have made their words white noise anyway. The minutes stretched into hours, and the moons headed toward the horizon in flight of the sun that followed them. Still, all of you stayed in the clearing. Those of you that were able to hear the argument continued.

You eventually grew too weary standing for such a long period of time, and unintentionally ended up leaning into Cygnus's side through the later half of the debate. He didn't seem to mind one bit. If anything, the grin on his face stretched even wider as his eyes sparkled.

Suddenly, the oldest, and quite possibly the smallest troll, croaked out a Alternian word that had everyone silenced. The crooked, wooden cane she leaned upon helped her hobble over to where Auriga was standing. The scars on her wrinkled on her face showed her hardship and wisdom. It was clear this troll was widely respected by these rebels.

She suddenly growled something out to Auriga while pointing a gnarled finger at you. Her tone was unclear in how she felt about you, but Auriga's face looked mildly surprised as she stared down at the shorter troll.

Cygnus's gasp of breath above you made you turn your gaze to him.

The stars in his delighted eyes were the most beautiful things you ever saw. And the words he spoke next were the most beautiful things you had ever heard.

"You're going to be staying."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is sooooooooooooooo late it's not even funny. BUT ITS GOOD, RIGHT? ATLEAST I'M HAPPY WITH IT.
> 
> Aight, I know GHB hasn't made an appearance in a while, bUT HEAR ME OUT OKAY. THE PARTS HE'S NOT IN IS IMPORTANT TO THE PLOT I SWEAR.
> 
> In the meantime, enjoy yourselves with Cygnus. He cares about your wellbeing. And he loves you. :)
> 
> PLEASE leave a comment! They are very encouraging!


	19. The Social Chameleon

Even though the council had said you were welcome to stay here, it was clear they expected you to work for them.

And work you did.

Desperate to please them, you threw yourself wholeheartedly into any job they wanted you to do. Whether it be cleaning clothes, polishing weaponry, or carrying supplies, you wouldn't refuse anything. You had to admit, it was grueling work. You tried your best, but it was clear from the look on the older trolls faces, you were not doing so well. You lacked the muscle to carry supplies, or even lift half of the weapons these trolls carried. As for cleaning clothing, you knew how to function a washing machine and dryer back home, but there was no such luxury on this unforgiving planet. Here, there was a wash bin filled with water, and a washboard, which you had no idea how to use. How were you supposed to scrub blood stains out of fabric using a metal contraption that hadn't been used since the mid-1800's?

After several other attempts at various other tasks, they had dropped you off at their kitchens. It was a little more than an area of tables and fires off to the side of the encampment. This place was a far cry from the hustle and bustle of the cookhouse in the Grand Highblood's hive, and an even further cry from the cozy kitchen you used on Earth. Never-the-less, you embraced this task with as much enthusiasm as you could muster.

The kitchens were ran by a sharp-eyed olive blood. Cygnus told you their name was Boinae, and Boinae did not seem to appreciate you barging in on their space. As much fun as their name was to say, the troll was very much unenthused about your presence here. They kept their distance, but it was clear, they did not think you qualified to serve this position.

At first they gave you menial tasks, like mincing large pieces of meat. Massive, bloody pieces of meat with unnatural colors. Several pieces were almost as big as your torso. You wondered what type of horrific creature the dripping muscle could have come from, but decided best not to question it. You were disgusted, of course, but you did not utter one complaint as you started chopping. You were determined to accomplish everything with as much zeal as you could. It was the least you could do to appeal to Boinae's good side.

You didn't even flinch when they began to bring live insects to their table. Without so much as blinking, they would reach into their sack and take out one disgusting looking creature, and start cracking its neck. The insects had troll heads, as disturbing as that fact was. Sometimes they screamed when Boinae cracked their neck, and you could not help but shiver when they did so. You had seen these creatures in the kitchens of the Grand Highblood's hive. They were no less creepy out here. Were they a sub-species of troll? Did that make trolls cannibals? You contemplated asking, but decided against it. You didn't want to risk the wrath of Boinae.

It wasn't until Cygnus started following you around the kitchens did Boinae begin to notice you and your work.

Cygnus, being ever thrilled that you managed to find a skillset that benefitted the camp, had taken it upon himself to be your personal companion at work. You tried telling him this was hurting your productivity level, and that Boinae was going to be angry with you if he continued to pester you. Paranoid, you kept your eyes on the aforementioned troll. You tried to do it subtly. Continuing to go about your business while watching another person out of the corner of your eye was a difficult thing to manage. Even if you exclude the excited partner constantly vying for your attention, it was still hard.

To your surprise, Boinae didn't seem too upset that Cygnus was there. Aggression was an emotion void in their eyes. All that lay there was mere curiosity. Their slit pupils were darting confusedly between Cygnus and yourself. Perhaps it was a trick of the light from the fire beneath the cauldrons, but were they in disbelief?

Cygnus payed them no attention as he wrapped his arm around your torso to hold you close. His rumbling purr made his chest vibrate, and it was a soothing feeling against your skin. For a moment, you forgot about your tasks in the kitchen. You forgot everything that wasn't this blissful feeling sweeping your soul into rapture. Subconsciously, you leaned your head back into Cygnus, only to hear his purring grow into a pleased crescendo. Flickering your eyes up toward him, you noticed a sudden movement toward your far right.

Boinae had completely ripped the head off of one of the creatures they were preparing. The small creature's horned head was clutched in a clawed left hand, completely separated from its body. You looked at the others Boinae had done for comparison. The heads were intact, but the necks were cleanly snapped. The animal they held in each of their talon-like hands was completely decapitated.

Flitting your gaze back to Boinae's face, their shocked expression was enough to warrant embarrassment from you. They looked completely scandalized. It took all but 4 seconds to realize what you could have done to warrant such a reaction from them. You looked away from them, your face suddenly feeling warmer that it was a few seconds ago. Suddenly the arm around your waist felt a little too tight.

You tried to pull away from Cygnus's embrace, but the bulky muscles of his arm didn't allow for too much wiggle room. You bit your lip and a deliberately avoided Boinae's gaze. Of course they would be shocked at the sight of you two so affectionate, you were completely out of his league.

Cygnus was a powerful fighter and one of their leader's best consultants. Even with one arm and one eye, he was brilliant in combat. As much as she was loathe to admit it, Auriga trusted him with her life. It was obvious he was treated with respect everywhere he decided to go in the encampment. What was he doing with you?

The human. The extra weight to carry. As fragile as a flower and as useless as one too. You couldn't even figure out what their customs were half the time. How were you supposed to benefit the camp if you couldn't even do that? Your introduction to the kitchens were fairly new, and you had yet to do anything useful here. Even at the Grand Highblood's hive, the most you did was serve dishes and cook simple dishes with simple ingredients. You were a glorified waitress, not a chef.

The facts were unavoidable. You didn't belong here. No wonder Boinae was so surprised at your intimate interactions. You were completely out of Cygnus's social circle, let alone someone he should consider a relationship with.

You looked up toward Cygnus's scarred visage. He was incredible to look at, even with his brows furrowed in oblivious confusion. You were absolutely plain in comparison. Even with your exotic human qualities.

This was only going to end in disaster. It was only a matter of time until he figured out he was too good enough for you. When that time came, you would have no idea what to do. You could feel your throat tightening and the muscles in your chin clenching at the thought.

Thankfully, Auriga had unintentionally came to your aid. You had never been more grateful for her presence.

She stood a good fifty feet away from the area of the kitchens, and was cupping her grey hands around her fanged mouth.

It took you a minute to realize she was calling out to Cygnus. The rasp of her gravelly voice had registered a pitch unknown to your ears. For a minute, she didn't sound like herself. Her voice sounded as if she had ingested sand. Judging by the change in posture from your lover behind you, her tone did not invite refusal.

With great reluctance, Cygnus unwound his arm from your waist. Taking great care to meet your eyes, he purred deep in his chest when you looked back at him. The charming smile lighting up his face only made your stomach twist with nervous energy. Taking your hand in his, he rubbed a callous thumb over your knuckles, telling you he would be back soon.

You forced a smile, hoping it would be enough to disguise your distress.

He winked in return, and started to climb the hill where Auriga was waiting none-too-patiently on top of. You kept your eyes on him until you saw the tips of his horns disappear from behind the small slope.

Releasing a breath you didn't know you had been holding, you pointedly kept your eyes on skinned carcass in front of you. You were supposed to be mincing it, but then Cygnus had appeared and distracted you with his charming nature and sweet disposition.

Oh darn it, Boinae was right. He was too good for you!

On impulse, you turned to look at the troll who suddenly put a dent in your self esteem, only to find them much closer than you expected. Earlier, they were hovering beside one of the cauldrons, busily cracking necks. Now, they were standing not five feet away from you.

If their close proximity was startling you, you were not prepared for the words that came out of their mouth.

"What is such a nice soul like you doing with the likes of that brute?"

You would have given a dignified response to their question, you really would have, but your unhinged jaw and wide eyes painted a very undignified picture. You could understand them? How?

However, once the shock of that realization wore off, another suddenly slithered it's way into your conscience. Of all the things to come out of their mouth, that was what they said?

What did they mean? They couldn't be talking about Cygnus, could they? He was an absolute darling, everyone in the encampment seemed to think so. What was Boinae speaking of? Perhaps they were referring to his appearance. Your sweetheart was built like a brick wall, but the scars on his face did not paint a very approachable figure. Surely that was it.

Before you could get a hold of yourself and ask Boinae what they meant by their controversial statement, they unintentionally answered the question for you.

"I've seen the bastard rip a blue bloods horns right out of his skull," Boinae nonchalantly told you as they walked back over to their cauldron. You decided to pass it off as mere coincidence that the next creature they pulled out to prepare was, indeed, a bright navy.

"Back before I worked in the kitchens, I worked along side him as a defender to the base. I've never seen any troll so savage in my existence. He spared no mercy to highbloods of any rank," they paused to crack the wriggling creatures neck. It suddenly painted a more gruesome picture than you would have liked, "It seemed as if his quarrel with every member of the higher caste was one out of a personal grudge. I was constantly paranoid that he might snap and turn feral at a moments notice."

You did not like the distant look in their eyes. The reflection of green moon casted an eerie glow in Boinae's slit pupils. They seemed to be lost in a forgotten time that you could not find them in. You found yourself wandering closer to the cauldron, curious for more information from the mysterious troll who claimed they knew a darker side to your Cygnus.

Suddenly, they startled. Shuddering in a way that made it seem like they had suffered from a cold chill. They no longer had that distant, surreal look in their eyes.

"Soon enough, the elderly council saw what I saw, and they thought it best for Cygnus to change positions. He worked in espionage, where brutally killing people could get him culled. However, he seemed to be really good at his new line of work. From what I hear, he could completely convince every servant in a highblood's home that he had been there originally, without question."

Suddenly, it was as if your blood had froze in your veins.

Boinae continued, not noticing how stiff you had gotten. "I could still see the fury buried deep inside him, but his way of relenting it had taken an insidious turn. He had developed a talent of shifting his personality to charm anyone he came across. I honestly don't know which I find more terrifying, that he can strip the skin off of a tealblood in less time it takes to bake a grub, or that he can change his entire persona enough to convince an alien to have feelings for him."

With a shallow gasp, you had stumbled backward to find support on the table behind you. So Boinae didn't think you weren't good enough for Cygnus, they thought he was too much of a monster to be with you. Your breaths were shuddering, and your vision was beginning to get blurry.

It couldn't be true.

But then again . . .

What would Boinae gain from lying to you? With a shudder, you suddenly remembered that you had no memory of where Cygnus came from. For all you knew, he was born in the Grand Highblood's hive as a servant. You should feel angry, but the only emotion causing your heart to pound so relentlessly was fear. Was Boinae lying to you? Should you trust the judgement of a troll you just met over someone you deeply loved? Then again, Boinae said they knew Cygnus longer than you ever did. And how were you to know that the Cygnus you knew was not just a façade he displayed? The fear running through your system was pure, and unadulterated, and it made you sick to think that you had fallen for a troll you now had no idea who he was.

Unexpectedly, you heard a very familiar tenor voice calling faintly from behind you.

You turned toward the sound already knowing, and already terrified of the troll who owned that voice.

There he was, atop the hillside, back from whatever errand Auriga had requested of him. He had been waving his muscled arm wildly. When he saw he had gotten your attention, he had grinned brightly, flashing that infamous charming smile that he knew had you weak in the knees.

However, his smile now seemed much more sinister than it had before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a good three months since I last updated. Wow. I honestly don't know how y'all put up with me.
> 
> However, I did go on vacation with a couple of friends, and it did leave me little time for writing during those days under the sun.
> 
> But you guys don't want to hear excuses, you want to know what happens next!
> 
> Suddenly, Cygnus is not who we think he is and our protagonist is having her doubts about her one true love. Her new coworker, (ANOTHER original character, good grief I need to stop) has told us what Cygnus was like before he served under the Highblood. What will happen to their relationship now?
> 
> Comment what you think will happen next, and we'll see if your assumptions are correct in the next few chapters! Stay tuned!


	20. The Messiahs

Paranoia had curled its way around your spirit like a hungry boa constrictor. There was no way of escaping it. Your head was clouded with thoughts every second of the night. Boinae was quick to scold you when you had accidentally let a piece of green liver burn in the cauldron. They knew distress was the cause of your distracted behavior, and they tried to help you as best as they could. You were too distracted to get much of anything accomplished without their help.

Boinae didn't strike you as very amiable, but you knew they were becoming friendlier with you when the two of you worked. Occasionally, their stern brow would soften, and their lips would stretch into a crooked smile. It felt nice to befriend someone; someone who wasn't hardened by war or a potential social chameleon.

Life was nice being Boinae's friend. They even came to your tent once in a while to check up on you. Ever since your little game of hide-and-seek with Cygnus began, you had taken to having many a crisis in there. Unfortunately for you, the paranoia wouldn't leave. You couldn't stop asking yourself unanswerable questions. Was Cygnus's personality really just a charming façade? What caused him to be like this? Were you going to be avoiding him for the rest of your life?

It wasn't easy, but between Auriga's constant need for his errands and Boinae's general indifference for him, you managed to stay in the clear for longer than you thought possible. Whenever he came looking for you, Boinae, Auriga, or even some random camp member would come looking to distract him.

You were wondering how long you could keep this up. Hiding from him was causing a lot of unnecessary stress in your life. Perhaps you should just confront him? You could feel your forehead scrunching up as you thought about all the repercussions that might bring. What would he do to you if he suspected you thought him a monster? He had never struck you or said an unkind word to you, but then again, that was before you knew the supposed truth. You couldn't figure out how much of his personality was a façade and how much was his true self.

Suddenly, a calloused hand gently shook your shoulder. Flinching from the unexpected contact, you look to your left to see Auriga. You nearly laughed at the amount of relief you felt. It wasn't him. You didn't even bother asking how she managed to sneak in your private tent without you hearing her.

In the crook of her arm, you noticed two bowls of a creamy orange broth. There was steam rising from equally orange lumps in the bowls. Upon closer inspection, it looked like curry. You wondered why Boinae didn't come to get you to help them with the evening meal.

"I thought you could use some company. And just as I walk in, you were looking like the planet might end. Seems like I got here just in time." She mused, handing you a bowl.

It was rare she made a visit to your personal tent, seeing as hers was much comfier (and set up better,) but you didn't question your good fortune. A visit from one of the busiest trolls in the camp was something to be appreciative of.

You scooted over on your cot to allow her room to sit down comfortably. She grinned and tucked her legs underneath her.

The steam rising from the bowl was a good indication that you were in for a heavy meal that would knock you out in less than half an hour. The meat Boinae liked to use for their dishes, you learned, was very high in tryptophan. You had to learn this the hard way when you downed three servings of a delicious, blue, chili-esque dish. You had passed out on the grass fifteen minutes later. You had stayed asleep until the middle of afternoon the next day. Boinae told you later that Cygnus had to carry you to your tent before the sun rose.

The thought made you stiffen. Even then, Cygnus was quick to jump at the chance to help you. The confusion over his identity was rattling your head with enough force to give you a headache. Who was he? Did he really have feelings for you, even if he wasn't who he said he was?

Your heart couldn't stand the thought of your entire relationship being a lie. You knew there was no other way around it, but you suppressed any thought of it all being false to the farthest part of your brain.

You would deal with it when the time came, right now you needed to eat and then potentially sleep for the next few hours. If Boinae cooked this dish how you thought they cooked it, you would be down in less than half an hour. Perhaps a bit of rest would help you to solve this problem.

"So, what's going on between you and Boinae?"Auriga said, smacked her lips as she took another gulp from her bowl.

That thought had your eyebrows raised further than you thought possible. Boinae had become a wonderful friend to you, and had opened your eyes to a devastating problem in your life. There was absolutely nothing romantic about the relationship you both had established.

"Nothing! We're just friends, I don't feel anything for them." you answered her, trying to smother the shock in your voice at her question.

With a tilt of her head, she gave you the most skeptical look you've ever seen on anybody, "Oh please, I'm not blind. I know when someone is waxing pale for someone else. You should see the eyes they make at you."

"I'm afraid I don't follow." You answered her honestly. What did she mean, "waxing pale?" You took another sip from your bowl, patient for a response as she finished off the last of her orange curry.

"They wants to be moirails with you. It's so obvious, I'm surprised you hadn't seen it before. By the way, when you get around to it, tell them that this is their best dish yet!" She finished, licking her lips.

You were still confused. Moirails? What was she even talking about? What did that even mean? You took a contemplative gulp from your bowl as you tried to figure out the denotation of her alien words.

She must have seen how confused you were. With an exaggerated exhale, she set her empty bowl to the side and turned to face you.

"Why do I have to be the one to explain this to you? Your lusus should have done this a long time ago." She grumbled under her breath irritably, unintentionally making her already gravelly voice even deeper. "Okay, so there are four quadrants, right? I'm going to guess you know that much." She guessed wrong. You had no idea what quadrants were, but you weren't about to interrupt her. "Boinae's after the pale one. It's the one with the diamond. That's the one where you look out for each other and sort of protect each other, in a way. I don't know how to explain it." Auriga was gesticulating as she spoke, waving her hands in a hopeful attempt to convey her words in a way you'd understand. And it helped, in a way.

With hesitance, you tried to recapitulate what she had just told you. What Boinae basically wanted was to be a bodyguard, that, at the end of the day, still wanted to hang out with you without a paycheck. They wanted this from you also. You would have to protect them too. However, you had difficulty seeing how you could protect Boinae from anything seeing as they were as lithe as a jungle snake and twice as cunning. Not to mention they were an excellent chef, you thought as you finished your own bowl of orange tastiness.

You told this to Auriga, hoping she could clarify.

"Well, you would be protecting each other physically and emotionally. If you were to be in an quadrant with somebody dangerous, Boinae would warn you and would plan accordingly. Make sense?" Auriga didn't realize how close her words hit to home. Nodding dumbly, you smiled, hoping it disguised your distress.

Suddenly, Boinae's desires for a "pale" relationship made much more sense. Was Cygnus behavior considered dangerous? Then again, apart of you was still trying to deny that he lied to you and disguised his entire personality. You were terrified of what was going to happen once you ran into him again. What if he-

"Luckily, I don't think Boinae has much to worry about in that department. I can't think of a better matesprit for you than Cygnus." Auriga had obliviously interrupted your internal crisis by talking about the very troll your crisis was about. You weren't sure if you should scream or cry. You didn't have time to decide which as she continued talking.

"Speaking of that rascal, sorry he hasn't been around lately. I'm sure Boinae has already filled you in, but just in case they didn't, just know I sent Cygnus on an espionage mission to Darkleer's hive. He should be back by moonrise tomorrow night. So you'll get to see him soon." The edges of her grey lips turned upward in a gentle grin. You felt your heart twist as her words unknowingly mocked you. The knowledge that Cygnus was going to be back so soon sent a chill down to your bones. What were you going to do? Even if the truth about his past was a lie, he might feel betrayed because of how easily you were fooled into thinking he tricked you. You were so frustrated you wanted to tear your hair out. You were absolutely doomed if you couldn't figure out something.

Deciding the best course of action required solitude. You only had tonight to think something through. As politely as you could, you asked the leader of the camp to leave your personal tent. Claiming exhaustion was the best way to go about this. She knew how susceptible you were to the heavy amounts of tryptophan-filled meat Boinae poured into as many dishes as they could. In actuality, you knew that the effects wouldn't kick in until about fifteen more minutes. You had until then to come up with a plan for Cygnus.

Before she got up to leave, she gave you tentative touch on the shoulder. You resisted the urge to laugh. As much as you enjoyed Auriga's company, she had no idea how to initiate physical contact. And as intimidating as the she-troll was, you found her charming.

As soon as the pink fabric of the tent's entrance stopped flapping from her exit, you started thinking. What could you do to confront Cygnus? You tried not to let your mind explore further into what you though his reaction to your confrontation might be. Either he would react the way you thought he would, in his usual, charming way, or he could be completely unpredictable and fly off the handle. Maybe he might even turn to violence. Maybe he might kill you. You shuddered at the thought. There was no way you would escape unharmed if Cygnus wanted to hurt you. He may be missing an arm and an eye, but he was built like a brick house and had the teeth of a grinning crocodile. You has seen him flash you many a handsome smile, but it was all to easy to imagine each point incisor covered in your own ruby blood.

Your stomach turned uneasily as you vividly imagined that. Ugh, you were not going to throw up that delicious curry. You could only imagine the offense Boinae would take from that.

Speaking of that dish, you could feel the effects of the tryptophan settling into your system. Oh no. How much time had it been? It didn't feel like fifteen minutes. Did panicking really make the time fly that much faster? You let out a distressed wail as you felt your eyelids becoming heavier. It was only a matter of time before you were off to dreamland, and as soon as you awoke, you'd have to confront Cygnus.

Wait a minute. Maybe this was what you needed. Perhaps a couple of hours of heavy sleep will help you think of answers. Perhaps your answers will come to you in a dream. Praying to whatever deity will listen, you slip into a lofty slumber, hoping to awake with answers.

. . .

"Would you motherfuckin' look at that? The wicked, peasantblood prophet. What the fuck is the Lil' Mama doin' here so early?"

"REASON ELUDES THIS ONE, BROTHER. THIS SACRILEGIOUS HUMAN REFUSES THE CHURCH AND HER FACE IS BARE OF THE SACRED PAINT. SHE DOES WHATEVER THE MOTHERFUCK SHE PLEASES."

"Motherfucker, that doesn't explain her pious presence in the Dark Carnival. Perhaps this wicked bitch needs to be schoolfed by the Mirthful Messiahs on chucklevoodoos."

"THE LIL' MAMA NEEDS TO AWAKEN FIRST BEFORE YOU START THAT NOISE."

The two muffled voices above you were steadily becoming more and more clear as your grogginess began to leave you, but before you could form a coherent thought, a swarm of purple burrowed its way into your head. It swiftly darkened your vision, and you were not having it. The feeling was akin to an ice pick being hammered into your skull. With a hiss of pain, you did what any person would do upon waking up to find themselves in unbearable agony.

You screamed.

The thundering voices above you protested your shrill wailing, but by the stars, the thing burrowing it way into your head was killing you! Then suddenly, your vision brightened, and the purple swarm was gone.

"Well, motherfucker, the prophet's awake."

Ignoring the indistinct statement heard above you, you rubbed the heels of your palms into your temples. As you tried to sooth the fading ache, you looked toward the two, seated figures in front of you.

Good grief, you had never seen anybody so tall. Not even The Grand Highblood could compare. The two trolls were at least twenty feet tall, and that was only if you didn't include the massive horns that ran ragged above their hair. They looked like if you combined voodoo witch doctors with circus ringmasters. They reminded you of the Grand Highblood, undoubtedly, but there was something off putting about them.

While The Grand Highblood kept a bone white club as a close companion, these two had literal bones hanging from their bodies. The one on the left wore a giant cracked skull mask with the jaw unhinged. The one on the right had a giant ribcage attached to his muscular, grey chest. However, both of them had many, many tinier skulls tied around their waists. Many of them were filled with colorful powder. You shuddered to think that those skulls were exactly the size of your own head.

The two of them carried no weapons, it took you a moment to realize they didn't need to.

If the Grand Highblood threatened violence, then these guys guaranteed it.

"WELL, MOTHERFUCKER, WHAT BRINGS YOUR MIRACULOUS SELF HERE?"

You startled at the thunderous volume of the figure on the left. Hearing his voice coherently was a bit of a shock to your system, but his inquiry brought to mind an important question; where exactly was here?

Taking a look around, you noticed you were in the middle of one of three rings. Rising to your feet, you looked up to notice you were in a circus tent of sorts. The striped fabric of the tent soared high above the three of you, the entrance to the tent behind you looked to lead toward a carnival of sorts. From your limited view inside the tent, you could see a black carousel, a brightly lit ferris wheel, and several booths with purple writing outside. You could hear several trolls screaming in the distance, along with the music of a calliope.

Looking back toward the troll to your left, you answered him with as much courage as you could muster, "I'll answer you just as soon as I figure out where 'here' is." You were proud your voice didn't shake, but something told you you could say anything in front of these two and they probably wouldn't do anything about it.

The left troll shook with raucous laughter once he heard your answer. The sound itself making the ground shake unsteadily. The troll on the right smiled, but didn't make an effort to laugh at what you said. He was eventually the one who answered you.

"Lil' Mama, you've entered the Dark Carnival. We've been expected you, but not so motherfuckin' soon. What tragedy has been brought upon your wicked self?"

The Dark Carnival? The name was vaguely familiar. However, you were more concerned about what they said about them expecting you. You were supposed to come here? What's worse, you were here before you were meant to be.

What could have caused your arrival?

Wait a minute. Cygnus. Your fear of facing him. Your desperate prayer to any deity that could help you. These trolls were the ones who answered you? So you were dreaming, you weren't really here. It was just your subconscious that was here. Your body was still fast asleep in the rebel encampment.

Even if you weren't really here, the trolls above you did expect you to come to them eventually, or so they told you. Did that make them deities? Did you unintentionally bring yourself here asking for help? Were they able to help you with your predicament with Cygnus?

You decided to ask, unsure of the results you might get.

"I am here because I asked for your help. I am unsure that my . . ." you were unsure of the term you would use to describe Cygnus. You highly doubt that these troll deities use human terms like "boyfriend." Wait, what did Auriga call him? Your matesprit? ". . . matesprit is who he says he is. I was told by someone else that he is not who he says he is. He is coming back to where I am when the moon rises. When he returns and finds out that I know the hypothetical truth, I fear he may bring harm to me. Perhaps you both could assist me?"

The one on the right had a giant hand on his forehead and was looking at you like you were a two headed chicken. With a heavy sigh, he spoke, "In all your holy abilities as a prophet, you called upon the Mirthful Messiahs for . . . motherfuckin' quadrant advice?" He looked bewildered.

The one on the left seemed to ponder your request more than the one on the right did. So much so, he argued for you. "HOLD ON A MINUTE, MOTHERFUCKER. IF THE PROPHET ASKS OUR HELP, IS IT NOT OUR WICKED OBLIGATION TO FULFILL WHAT THEY WANT? THE CHURCH IS NOTHING WITHOUT HER GUIDANCE. MOTHERFUCKING CALAMITY IS BOUND TO ENSUE IF THE PROPHET REFUSES TO INTERPRET MIRACLES. I SAY WE HELP THE LIL' MAMA."

The Messiah in the right contemplated his comment. His brow was furrowed with intense concentration. He stayed in that position for a minute before nodding in agreement with his partner. "You make a motherfuckin' point. If it gives her motherfuckin' comfort then it is best we oblige her."

You were thrilled to pieces with the prospect with potential help, but also hesitant to explain your situation. Who knows what those two could do to you, but at this point, you had no other options. So, with as much pomp as you could muster, you spoke to the two gods in front of you, hoping for the best.

"So you'll help me? Wonderful! Okay, so my matesprit is returning to the rebel encampment by th-"

"Wait a motherfuckin' minute, what tapestry of tongue are you trying to weave? 'Encampment?' Why the motherfuck aren't you with any subbjugglators? What has happened to cause this?" Interjected the right Messiah, obviously offended at this unexpected turn of events.

"Well, I was. I think," the word "subjugglator" was unfamiliar to you, but you had an idea of what that word meant. The image the term brought to mind was all too familiar, "I was with The Grand Highblood before I was taken to-"

"THE GRAND HIGHBLOOD? MOTHERFUCKER, DO YOU REMEMBER WHO WAS APPOINTED TO THAT POSITION?" The left Messiah said, turning toward the other, interrupting you once again.

"I believe the motherfucker's name was Kurloz. Yes, Kurloz Makara. I'm fucking flabbergasted our prophet managed to flee under his watch. There was a motherfuckin' reason he was chosen to serve such a high position in the Church."

What? What were they talking about? The Grand Highblood's real name was Kurloz? You were honestly a little surprised his name wasn't "The Grand Highblood." It wasn't even a name, it was a title! You wondered what your face looked like right now. In all honesty, you felt like a idiot for thinking "The Grand Highblood" was his actual name. Then again, it wasn't the weirdest name you had heard during your stay in this hellscape.

"FEAR NOT, MIRACULOUS LIL' MAMA, WE'LL GET YOU BACK TO HIM. NO HARM WILL COME TO A PROPHET OF THE MIRTHFUL MESSIAHS. YOUR MATESPRIT WILL BRING NO HARM TO YOU. IN THE MEANTIME, WE NEED TO ACT FAST." The volume of the left Messiah startled you out of your confused state.

Before you had time to question his words, the Messiah on the right had reached for a skull to break it open. A gush of white powder had spilled into his palm. The sparkly substance looked befitting for a crafting project. You could almost laugh at how ill-fitting it looked in the hand of a giant, alien god. However, before you could even ask what the substance did, it was blown in your face and clogging up your nasal passages. You sneezed and coughed viciously before falling over.

A furious question was seconds from falling your lips, but your visioned darkened before you could ask it.

The powdery anesthetic had you down for the count. You only hoped that by the time you awakened, the Messiahs had kept true to their word and helped you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If y'all want to know what Boinae's dish was, it was this.  
> http://www.templeofthai.com/recipes/red_curry.php
> 
> Anyway, we meet the Messiahs and we learn GHB's real name! How exciting!
> 
> Find out in the next chapter how they decide to "help" our protagonist. Cygnus is coming back, and I'm sure you guys will want to know what he plans to do to our poor protagonist.


	21. A Grave Mistake

Fire has many different smells.

In your family's vacation home up north, the fireplace always smelled of comfort and cedar. You found the smell there very relaxing and nostalgic. After romping in the snow all day, it was nice to sit by the fireplace and warm your bones.

Whenever summertime came around, you liked to go camping with your family. Your favorite part was roasting marshmallows over the campfire. You remember the flames themselves having a sweet scent, like cherrywood and sugar.

Contrariwise, the brick oven in your kitchen always had an earthy scent to it. You remember someone would always be stoking the flames until the delectable smoky smell worked its way through the entire house. The pleasant spices would tickle your nose all the way in the living room.

Needless to say, you enjoyed the smell of fire.

A similar smell was seeping in through the entrance of your tent now, but something was off about it. You were too groggy to figure out what it was. Your blurry vision could make out a bright orange color flashing through the seems of your sewn quarters from the outside. Muffled screaming and shouts filled your ears as your body slowly adjusted to being awake. You were tempted to just cover your head with the blankets and sleep until the moon rose again. However, Boinae would be none-to-pleased by your slugabed attitude when they came to fetch you to help them prepare breakfast, or the troll equivalent of.

Suddenly, and with no warning whatsoever, someone came running into your quarters. Their silhouette was quite intimidating against a backdrop of red and yellow. The tall figure then swept away the fabric from the front of your tent and shouted something your muggy head couldn't quite make out. They wasted no time in running to your side to hurriedly shake you out of your stupor. You would be quite terrified by their urgency if you weren't so exhausted. Your sleepy self was much too tired for such a rude awakening.

It took you a moment to realize this frantic figure shaking your lying body was Cygnus.

Oh goodness, you were not prepared for this encounter. The temptation to cower under your blankets increased by tenfold. You did not have the courage nor the mental capacity to face him at the moment, so maybe he would just go away if you willed it hard enough. You pulled the blankets higher over your head, hoping he would take the hint.

He did not seem to appreciate your attempts to hide in your bed, and responded by frustratedly growling and tearing away your covers. With nowhere to hide, you groggily looked up at him. Before you could question his purpose behind such a rude awakening, he quickly reached underneath you, and lifted you right off of your cot. Your sleepiness all but disintegrated. You had to swallow the scream of surprise threatening to leap out of your throat.

Before you could ask his intentions behind his actions, he was running out of your tent and into the camp.

The sight that greeted you would be forever engraved in your mind.

Flames burning as high as the trees engulfed the encampment. Everywhere you looked, everything was engulfed with orange. The smell permeating the air was nothing like anything you had ever encountered back on earth. Instead of the nostalgic scent of camping or a winter getaway, terror and burned bodies assaulted your nose.

Frightened trolls were screaming and hurriedly dashing back and forth as if in a confused daze. Some had horrid burn marks covering their face and various body parts. There were a few brave souls were pouring water on the tents in a futile attempt to keep the flames at bay.

A she-troll wearing a burned yellow hood was clutching another scrawny troll to her chest. The scrawny troll's face was indistinguishable due to burn marks marring their features. It was clear they were no longer among the living. Sympathy for the hooded troll welled up in your chest. You remember feeling that way not too long ago.

Suddenly, the disconsolate she-troll screamed to the sky, "What could have caused this! What have we done to deserve this?!" She then buried her head in the dead trolls neck, a despondent aura hovering over her.

The sight was as heartbreaking as it was gruesome, and it made you freeze as you considered the hooded troll's words. What could have caused this? What could have caused the camp to catch fire?

It took merely seconds for you to figure it out. It was you.

You were the one that asked to be freed from this camp. You went to the Messiahs and they told you they would help. Apparently, this was there idea of helping; burning the camp to the ground. A scream of frustration bubbled in your throat, but the smoke clouding the air made it difficult to breathe, let alone scream.

Your body had gone into a catatonic state. The shame that scorched through you was almost as hot as the fire surrounding the both of you. You were a fool to trust alien gods. You hated your gullible nature. In a place where everything was out to get you, it made you an easy target.

Behind you, in the distance, you heard a gravelly voice shouting. They sounded just as frightened as you felt. Cygnus's sensitive ears recognized their voice much quicker than you did, and promptly answered the shouter by name.

"Auriga! We're over here! What's happened?" She wasted no time bounding over to where the two of you were. Her purposeful movements betrayed none of the fear she had to be feeling. The smoke made it difficult to see her, but her wide irises seem to glow in the early twilight.

"I don't know! I wake up to screaming, and I go outside my tent only to find everything ablaze! What could have happened?" Auriga breathed heavily. Her brows were raised in an obvious sign of stress and confusion. The shame you felt burned brighter. This was all your fault, but it wasn't like you could tell her you caused the camp to catch fire.

"I swear, the camp was perfect when I left. I'm gone for a few cycles, and it all falls to ruin. We need to get out of here before we're all burned to a crisp." Cygnus's voice was more panicked than you'd ever heard it.

"What about the encampment?"

"Auriga, look around you. This place is falling to pieces. Even if we did manage to save it, what then? We're open targets without the camps defenses. Half of our group is dead, and I am not going to risk her safety." He said, gripping you tightly. You couldn't help but dwell on his finishing statement, he still cared about you? You tried to muffle the surprised gasp behind your lips.

Before you could build up the courage to question him, Auriga had spoken.

"We can't just leave everybody here!" The frantic tone in her voice made you bury your head in Cygnus's neck in shame. It must be heartbreaking for her to watch everything she'd worked for as a leader fall to pieces at her feet. Knowing that you were the cause of it made your heart ache.

Cradling you as close as he could, Cygnus breathed a sympathetic sigh. "I'm afraid we have no choice. We'll die if we stay here."

You could barely hear the suppressed sob that Auriga tried to swallow. The guilt you felt multiplied by tenfold.

"C'mon, I see an exit through the forest. This way!" Cygnus took off in sprint that made you jolt in his arm. You didn't expect to him to run so suddenly. Auriga hurried behind him as fast as her legs would carry her.

You passed many a screaming troll or a burned corpse on your way out of the camp. All at once, the world around you seem to collapse in on itself in utter chaos. The flames that danced toward the sky seemed to move in mocking merriment. They seem to applaud you for making such a reckless decision as to ask for help from amoral deities. Now you were getting your just desserts, and they had never tasted so bitter.

By the time the three of you reached the woods beyond the camp, Auriga was crying openly. You too, felt a few tears sliding down your cheeks.

Cygnus's face, on the other hand, was set in stone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter I know, but I figured you guys had waited long enough and I decided to cut the chapter I was working on in half.
> 
> Keep in mind, Cygnus is carrying our protagonist through the camp wiTH ONE ARM. HE STRONG AS HECK. AND ALSO MORALLY AMBIGUOUS AS HECK.
> 
> Kurloz will be returning soon, don't worry. I know y'all are starved for some chapters with him in it, buT I GOTTA ESTABLSH THE PLOT. I JUST GOTTA.
> 
> Please leave a comment if you like this chapter, or just have some criticism for me. They are really encouraging and I love reading each and every one of them. :)


	22. The Flight

Before you went to sleep that day, you spent it consoling Auriga. The both of you were seated under the shade of a large tree. You had never seen the hard-hearted she-troll so visibly upset. Lemon colored tears cascaded down her full cheeks as she struggled to regulate her breathing. The words formed on her blubbering lips were indistinguishable by your standards, but you still hesitantly stroked her hair. You were tentative in your efforts to comfort her, but sympathy made your soul tender. You knew what it was like to lose everyone you had ever known. The least you could do was offer some soothing words to someone who had shared a similar experience.

After a while, she cried herself into a deep slumber, trembling against your side under the shade of a massive pink tree. The bubblegum birch acting as a silent guard against her and your misery. Your heart ached for her, both out of pity and guilt. The poor she-troll had no clue that everything that had occurred was your fault.

Gently shrugging her weight off of your shoulder and into the tree, you turn toward east. The night wouldn't last forever, and it would only be a matter of time before you all had to travel to shelter.

The sunrise was drawing closer. You could barely see the orange rays of the malevolent star peaking over the horizon between the trees. Dread was unfurling in your stomach at the sight. If the three of you were stuck in the open when the sun came out, there would be no hope for your survival. The trees offered a little protection, but it wouldn't be enough. You still had a few hours to figure out a plan, but emotions were high after disaster had just struck.

Cygnus was pacing back and forth like a caged tiger. His only hand was placed thoughtfully on his chin. You thought you heard him mumbling under his breath. Only a few feet away from you, the visible crease between his brows was making your stomach churn uncomfortably. He moved with impatience and determined bewilderment. He wasn't exactly painting the most approachable picture.

Suspicion was still fresh in your mind. Who really was this troll you called your lover? Your heart weighed heavy as you contemplated the thought of spending an undetermined amount of nights with someone who's personality was a total mystery. If what Boinae said was true, then you had best be on your guard the entire time you were here.

Wait a minute . . .

Boinae.

Oh no.

Shooting to your feet, you turn toward the direction of the camp. You couldn't believe you forgot about them. In your tired panic to get away from the fire, their existence slipped your mind. But before you could dart out of the shade of the tree, you are caught by the arm by Cygnus. Your head swivels around to face him, to beg him to let you go, but you are caught off guard by the look on his face.

He looks as dejected as you feel.

"There's nothing back there." He speaks slowly. His normal tenor voice is low with sorrow.

"But Boinae . . ." you look in the direction of the ruined camp, then back to Cygnus. You start to struggle against his grasp. You had to get to them. What if they were still alive? He doesn't seem deterred by your wriggling, but you refuse to give up.

Suddenly, he growls your name, and pulls you closer. His long orange nails sinking into your arm startle you. He interrupts you before you can say anything. "Listen to me, there is nothing there but corpses and ash!" You flinch away from his yelling before freezing in his unyielding grasp. You don't even breathe.

He's never yelled at you before. Granted, he has yelled, but never at you. You knew even if you did provoke him, his easygoing temperament would be enough to sway him from lashing out at you. However, that did not seem to be the case anymore. You no longer knew who he was.

You can only imagine how petrified you looked as you stare back at him.

You didn't have to wonder for long as his face scrutinized yours. You could see a frightened figure in the reflection of his irises. The cogs in his mind were quickly turning. His brows lifted in distress as he drew an unutterable conclusion in his head.

He said your name again, softer this time. "Are . . . are you afraid of me?"

The question had incredible weight to it. You felt your soul buckle under its pressure. You were almost afraid to give him an answer. If you lied, he'd know immediately.

He loosened his grip on your arm. The claws that unintentionally dug into your skin vanished. Now, it was almost as if he was afraid to touch you. The distress in his one eye was giving you heart palpitations. You looked away from him, your heart was still ashamed of the suspicion you still felt. Everything inside of you felt conflicted. Your heart ached for you to deny his claim, but your head knew the dangers that a false move implicated.

Cygnus spoke. His voice cracking with stress on every other word.

"You know I still flush for you, right?" He lifted a shaking, calloused hand to stroke the side of your face. "You know nothing will change that, right?" The way he spoke was unbefitting of an comforting spouse. The anxiety in his voice betrayed how unsure he was about your reciprocated feelings. His quivering tone sounded like the shattering of glass; cracked and fragmented.

Oh, how fickle you felt. Once upon a time, you might have swooned in his arms for such pretty words, especially in such dire circumstances. But now? All you felt was hollow sympathy.

"What has happened to make you so distant? Was it those missions Auriga sent me on all the time? You know I had no control over those." His hand had shifted to rest on one of your tense shoulders. You had to suppress an uncomfortable shiver at the contact. He couldn't seem to focus on you. His eyes were twitching from left to right, searching his memories for anything that might have made you feel this way.

You took a deep breath, and decided the only way you were going to calm him down was to tell him what happened. It was an undeniably risky chance. However, his jittery state was taking a toll on your nerves. The idea of leaving him stranded and questioning would undoubtedly lead to poor consequences. On the other hand, this was your life on the line. The Messiahs said they would be in your corner, but how did you know you could trust them? With a deep breath that made your lungs ache, you breathed the words that would ultimately decide your fate. It was either that or see Cygnus an anxious mess for the rest of your miserable life.

"Boinae told me."

"What?"

Oh God, now you were the one racked with anxiety. You couldn't tell if he didn't hear you, or if he was confused. To be fair, you did say the words fast and breathlessly.

But you couldn't back out now. At the very least, you would tell him the truth. Apparently, you weren't trusted with this information by his standards. You had to find out from his former colleague. You let that information stew in your head for a bit, fueling the bitter rage coiling inside you. Clenching your fists, you looked him dead in the eye and repeated yourself.

"Boinae. They told me about you."

It took a minute for your words to register, but they did. They definitely did. His silted pupils dilated. His eyebrows twitched. His whole face barely managed to conceal the shocked realization and suppressed frustration. Those micro-expressions betrayed more in his heart than he would ever know.

With all the predatory grace he was capable of, he took his hand off of your shoulder. He straightened his back. The air had changed between the two of you. The concern and sympathy had vanished from his gaze.

"I see."

The words hung in the air like a dangling corpse; stiff and haunting.

"If you have decided to believe them instead of your own matesprit, I won't try to sway you."

The hurt and betrayal in his gaze was almost palpable.

His eye was an opaque rustic color that had the same hue as the metaphorical wall that ostracized you. Once, you might have waxed poetic about that enchanting color. But now, you'd sooner swallow the eye itself.

The two of you stood. Two unwavering trees in a vast orchard. The only sound permitting the air was Auriga's muffled, mournful moans in her slumber.

With a defeated exhale, Cygnus spoke. A demanding tone that invited no refusal. A complete stranger in a familiar skin.

"Wake Auriga, we need to head out before the sun rises. I'm sick of her sniveling."

You obeyed without hesitation. It was life in servitude all over again, but this time, there was no magnificent castle to keep you safe.

. . .

The three of you managed to find shelter in a cave before the sun could make its deadly and dramatic debut.

You had quietly begged Auriga to keep her sobs to minimum, for fear of attracting unwanted attention. Both from the dangerous fauna that lurked in the shadows and the unstable troll that lead you both. It pained you to tell her to quiet her sorrow. She had so much taken from her, and she deserved to grieve in peace, but surprisingly, and much to your horror, she seemed to take your words to heart. She began to hold herself differently; taller, prouder. The leader who gave it their best until the end. You still noticed the silent yellow streaks running down her face though. Etiquette dictated that you didn't draw attention to them, however. You were concerned with how she was dealing with her sadness. A closed bottle is bound to explode if shook hard enough.

Along with being silently miserable, Auriga seemed to be obtuse to the tension with the stranger in your spouse's skin. She also seemed completely unaware that Cygnus was a completely different troll. She still spoke with him in her gravelly, unconcerned tone. She was still jesting and planning and comforting him when the situation called for it. It made confusion and disgust churn in your stomach. How could she continue to not grasp how tense the situation was?

Auriga's friendliness toward Cygnus didn't stop your own caution toward him, however. You could feel the threads of his patience beginning to snap as the three of you sat idle while the sun slowly made its return below the horizon. Every minute that ticked by felt like one minute closer to your demise. He was getting antsy to get out of the cave.

You only hoped that the Messiahs carried through with their promise to keep you alive. You didn't feel very safe at the moment.

As for right now, you would try your hardest to stay out of his way. It was difficult to manage in a small, dank cave, but he seemed to pay less attention to you whenever you were out of his sight. So you walked toward the back of the cave.

The stalactites up above dripping with moisture were the only sounds keeping you company. Soon enough, you couldn't even hear Auriga nor Cygnus's voices. Perhaps the sun would be down before you finished exploring. If not, you at least trusted Auriga to come get you before they left.

The further you drifted into the cave, the more you noticed red Alternian writing against the sides of the cave. Good grief, it looked like someone had written a memoir on the walls. You had never seen so much writing in one place before. It seemed to stretch further than your dull eyes could see.

In several places, you noticed the paint of the wall was so smudged you could barely even tell it was writing at all. It was almost as if the writer was in great pain trying to record . . . whatever they were writing. The words were undoubtedly old, if the washed out red color was anything to go by.

The further you sojourned into the cave, the messier the writing got. It was almost as it the writer was losing strength the more they wrote. Some smudges of the paint stretched to the length of your arm in some places. Wait a minute, was this paint? The color looked too light to be the color of blood, and even so, you had yet to see another troll who had the unmistakable ruby color.

Suddenly, you saw something in the back corner of the cave. A troll skeleton with triangular horns was curled into a fetal position on the floor. The sight made you flinch. You didn't expect there to be any remains in this cave. Upon closer inspection, you saw a cracked pot of dried, red liquid beside a stalagmite to the right of the troll skeleton. So the dead troll was the writer of this wall? Their work was admirable, and had you been able to read Alternian, you probably would have appreciated their work more.

The skeleton wore no clothes, but instead clutched a pair of pants against their chest. The pants had a neon red stripe running along the both sides. They didn't look to be in a good condition either. The ragged tears and stains looked as if the dead troll tore them right off the wearer.

You couldn't help but pity the creature that had probably spent years creating the red masterpiece around you. The exhaustion of the work was what probably killed them. A tragic but poetic end. If only you knew what caused their passion to create such a lengthy record.

You asked the Messiahs if they would watch over the poor troll curled beneath you. You had no idea if they would answer.

Finishing your "prayer," you headed back to the front of the cave where your traveling companions were probably waiting for you, all the while wondering what would happen to the three of you next.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who's back y'all? That's right. Your favorite mediocre hobbyist writer. (I'm probably not your favorite, but that's beside the point.)
> 
> I come bearing updates!
> 
> The plot continues, and we see changes in our characters with a surprise cameo from a canon character!
> 
> Please comment if you enjoyed this chapter! Thank you! If you have any constructive criticism then please don't hesitate to tell me!


	23. Obliviation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lmao I'm back

The tavern was a bustling, vibrant place filled with trolls and excitement everywhere you looked.

From what you could see behind the bushes, business was booming in this place. The stands lining the roadway carried all sorts of baubles and figures behind their vibrant curtains. Bartering customers were quickly losing money as the experienced purveyors persuaded them into purchasing their goods. Even some of the stern looking guards standing around were conned into buying a few items.

In one stand, there was a tall Jade selling fragrant herbs in sealed, decorative jars. Boinae would've loved to sample some of the mysterious spices. In another booth, the finest fabrics you had ever seen were being advertised by a she-troll with shining teeth. Every troll selling something eagerly collected money with a grin, exchanging currency and items with ease that only came from practice. Some sold paintings, some sold bejeweled weaponry, but all were selling something.

Running among the crowd, you noticed a conspicuous troll hiding amongst their taller peers. With slippery fingers, the troll began reaching into the pockets of distracted buyers and pulling out various amounts of coins. With a grin, they shady creature hoped to their next unsuspecting victim, out of your sight. Oh well, there were bound to be a few downsides to this place. Not everything can be perfect.

"Okay, so what do we need from this place?" Auriga rasped, barely peaking her head above the shrub beside of you. She didn't seem as enraptured with this place as you were.

"Information. We can't survive on our own for long. We need someone to tell us where the rest of resistance is located." Cygnus replied with hesitation. He didn't even spare a glance at her, just continuing to look dead ahead at the busy tavern. He seemed so sure of himself, but you knew his ticks well enough that the stress of the situation was getting to him.

"And how do you suppose we get in there undetected? The place is crawling with guards, and even if we managed to get in, what makes you think these mid-bloods know where the resistance members are?"

"We have to try, Auriga." The words were frustratedly hissed through clenched teeth.

"Well, what about her?" She pointed at you. "How are we going to keep her hidden? You know the Grand Highblood is probably looking for her. Look at all his guards crawling about." Auriga stared at Cygnus, waiting for his judgement. Ignoring the fact that her words made you jump.

Those where his guards? You'd just assumed that all guards looked like that. Taking a deep inhale, you prayed that nothing would become of you. You had a first hand experience of just how brutish the armored trolls could be. Never again did you want to be on the wrong end of a raised fist or swinging blade.

Cygnus looked you up and down. The blank emotion behind his eye told you that your presence was of no consequence to him anymore. The expression that eyes were the windows to soul rang true in the instance. He had no soul.

"Let her borrow your cloak, it'll shield her skin and hornless head. Hopefully, no one notices her in the crowd. And if they do?" Cygnus paused to reach down into his boot to reveal a bronze knife,"We'll be prepared."

Auriga shrugs off her cloak without a word in his direction, and gently handed it to you. The cloth is filthy from traveling for so long, but you'd bite your tongue off before you'd complain. Shrugging the garment on, you notice something amiss. On Auriga, the cloak reaches to her knees, but on you the fabric brushes against your ankles every time you take a step. Pulling the hood over you head, you see Auriga stifle a coarse chuckle in her throat.

She's looking in your direction. You look down at yourself and see how massive the fabric is on you. You suppose you do look a little ridiculous in the oversized garment, but at least it will conceal you from the dangerous watch of giant guards.

You crack a smile right back to her. Quickly, you strike a dramatic pose with your arm handing over your eyes. You feel like an old film actress in distress. Auriga apparently thinks so too as she barks out a laugh in your direction.

"Sh!" Cygnus hisses as he parts the bushes for you both to go through, "We don't have even a minute to spare." You remember a time when he would've laughed right alongside Auriga. But now that troll is gone. And now this stranger wears his skin like a second-hand suit.

You sigh as you trail after both of them through the buses, trying to avoid the thorns as best as you could. These shrubs weren't like curling stems in your guardian's garden, the spindly thorns on these plants were as long as pencils. Taking a closer look, they had the coloring of a poison dart frog.

Ow!

One had scratched you.

Inhaling through your teeth, you look at the damage. On the back of your hand, there was a straight red line stretching from the knuckle of your pinky to the middle of your hand. The thorn sliced you hard enough to draw blood. Small ruby beads of liquid are bubbling up along the cut. It doesn't look too bad, but you're going to need something to bandage your hand with before it gets infected.

You hang your hand in front of you, making sure not to move it. Auriga and Cygnus are waiting on you just outside the shrubs, both give you questioning looks when you exit. Cygnus is giving you one that looked less than patient with your lack of punctuality. Holding your injured hand out for both of them too see, you try to explain what happened, but Auriga interrupts you.

"Did you get cut? Let me see it." Auriga takes your small hand in hers with unexpected urgency. It surprised you to see such a gruff she-troll taking such care in inspecting the minor injury. Normally, she was very awkward with touch. She gently ran her grey thumbs around the scratched area, ignoring your flinching when she got too close to the tender area.

"Well, I think you'll live. You're lucky though, any deeper and the poison in those thorns would have sent you into shock."

You freeze at her words. Good grief. You just couldn't catch a break, could you? You swallow with great difficulty, then you take a deep breath. Now was not the time to panic about potentially dying. Auriga didn't seem too concerned about it, why should you? Yeah. Let's go with that.

"Just in case, we need to wrap it in something. We don't need to announce to the planet that your a mutant as well as an alien. That fabric stand over there has got to have something, come on." Auriga tugged you along into the the tavern, where your senses reached nirvana.

For a moment, you forgot your circumstances. If you thought it was amazing from the outside, in the bushes, then from the center the tavern was ineffable in its spectacularity. One person was selling live birds in ornate cages, like a Renaissance street vender. The delightful smell of fragrant plants was wafting your way from a pink stand. The troll there seemed all too pleased to hand bushels of massive, beastly flowers out to paying customers. Another vendor sold bubbling potions in tightly sealed vials, reminding you vividly of the two observant gods watching your every move from beyond the stars.

The echoing of growls and clicks bouncing off the stone walkway mingled pleasantly with the clink of gold coins being passed around. It was almost like an archaic shopping mall.

You wished you could have stayed and witnessed everything this grand spectacle had to offer, but Auriga was busy tugging you toward the stand where an elegant Jade troll was selling everything from polyester to satin. The determined she-troll was pulling on your arm so fast you had to hang on to your hood to keep it from falling back and exposing yourself.

Cygnus shouted something from behind the both of you, but your could only make out the last bit. " . . . at sundown!"

"Got it!" Auriga gruffly shouted back. You were surprised she could hear him over the roar of the crowd. You knew you certainly couldn't. But it was no matter, you wouldn't have answered even if you could hear him.

Any peddlers that weren't getting any customers advertised to you both. One troll was waving a piece of parchment in your faces growling something you couldn't understand. Auriga gave him a sour look and weaved her way through the crowd with you in tow.

The Jade in the fabric booth didn't seem surprised to see the both of you running toward her like a couple of hooligans. You didn't know if that was just her disposition or if she had been through this particular situation before.

Quietly, she clicked out a few syllables to Auriga, probably asking what she needed.

Auriga quickly responded in a series of low, incoherent growls that made your ears ring. The only way you could know what your companion was saying was the expressive hand gestures she made.

You resisted the urge to let out a sigh. One minute you could understand these strange aliens, and the next you couldn't comprehend a thing. It was getting tedious.

To distract yourself, you looked around the inventory the Jade had. Instead of stacking bundles of fabric on top of one another in a practical fashion, the Jade had elegantly pinned sampled stretches of fabric from one end of her stand to the next, making them appear almost like a bunch of hammocks.

Beside the Jade's head, on the wall, there appeared to be a wanted poster of some sort. You couldn't make out the writing, but the portrait was definitely familiar.

The hornless figure staring back at you was like looking in a mirror. The hair length, the slope of the cheeks, the curve of the person's brow, the person in the picture was identical to you.

They were you.

The Grand Highblood. He was still looking for you. Better yet, he was making others search for you. The number below your picture was attached to a ludicrous amount of zeros. There was a reward for your capture.

Letting your gaze drift slightly to the left. The Jade's eyes had narrowed into curious slits, her attention on you. As if she was trying to place your concealed face.

Auriga kept on talking in her garbled, senseless tongue, ignorant to the fact that the Jade's focus had switched to you. You felt the sweat race down your back. Your hands gripped the durable cloth of too-large cloak you wore, trying to prevent your hands from shaking with nerves. The cloak covering your features had never been more appreciated.

Suddenly, you felt pressure on your back pockets. Twisting your body around with as much speed as you were able, you fling your clothes around to see the pickpocket from earlier. You both stood in shock for a moment looking at one other. Suddenly, the instincts of the thieving troll kicked in and they fled into the crowd, hiding from your sight once again. You hope they were happy with themselves, knowing they had wasted their time searching your empty pockets.

Turning back to the exchange between Auriga and the Jade salesperson, you noticed the both of them had locked eyes on you. Auriga looked horrified, and the Jade's smug expression conveyed that you just confirmed her suspicions. Peculiar. A petty attempt at thievery didn't warrant such expressions.

A soft breeze passing through your hair had you suddenly realizing why the two she-trolls were so transfixed with you. In your hurry to see who had been digging around in your pockets, your hood had fallen off. You suddenly felt more exposed than you had ever been. The lack of cloak's hood revealed your hornless head. And you're quite sure that both of them had noticed that your face was identical to the one in the wanted poster.

All at once, the Jade had let out a ear piercing trill. Faux horror was written distinctly across her face while she wildly gestured between the poster and you. You didn't understand a word she was saying, but you imagined it would be something that would get you and Auriga murdered.

Every head in the tavern turned in your direction, startled by the continuous racket the she-troll was making. Every customer, stand owner, and guard seemed to swivel their head to look at Auriga, the screaming Jade, and you. You could feel the stress of the situation building higher than a skyscraper as you felt yourself being centered in their crosshairs.

For a moment, it was still.

And then everything burst in motion.

Auriga swiftly grabbed a knife out of her boot and sliced the Jade across the throat, effectively silencing her distressed cries. Her body had not even hit the floor before Auriga was stabbing the nearest bystander. The spray of their teal blood had coated your already dirty cloak.

You didn't have much time to think about it as the crowd began running in any and every direction to escape from the massacre about to ensue. You are nearly knocked over by a particularly frightened troll in a green scarf as you flee toward Auriga, seeking her protection.

She had just finished off her third stabbing before she is pummeled to the ground by a blue guard with an armored chest. You stop in your tracks, helpless to do anything but watch the scene play out and dodge the few members of the crowd that are left.

With surprising grace, Auriga scrambles her way out of the guard's grasp. She wastes no time in stabbing the surprised brute in the eye. He lets out a guttural growl as he cups his injured eye, blood gushing out of the ocular organ. Auriga yells as she runs to another guard, making fast work of him as well. Wielding her knife, she looks more savage than you had ever seen her.

The next one she encounters wields a knife similar to her own. After narrowly parrying one of her attacks to his vulnerable abdomen, he takes advantage of her surprise and slices it across her thigh. She lets out a cry of agony and looses the grip on her weapon.

Without warning, you are suddenly grabbed from behind.

Not willing to take capture, so easily, you squirm in the guard's unyielding grasp. You may not have been able to fight against him, but you were not going to be taken so easily. You knew what it was like to hauled around like an animal, and you were not willing to repeat the experience.

"Auriga!" A shout of the she-trolls name which is much shriller than you would have liked goes unheard as the cries of battle overpower your voice.  
Auriga is now using her claws as a means of defense. They are crude compared to the sleek weapons of the guards, and they cannot penetrate the armor of her adversaries.

The troll that has grabbed you had not responded kindly to your struggling. With crushing force, he grabs your arm with enough force to bruise your delicate skin. Your bones creak under the pressure of his hand, and you tremble at your helplessness. Letting out a pained shriek, he lets go. His message has been clear.

You both are overpowered. There is no hope of escape.

One of the guards grabs Auriga's arm and slices it open it with the sickening sound of flesh being ripped open. She lets out a wail of agony. The muscles in her body are shaking with an intensity that is ineffable in its severity.

The proud troll falls to her knees, defeated. You let another shout of her name, desperate for an answer, desperate to know if she's okay. There is none to be heard.

You grip the fabric of the gloves the troll clutching you is wearing. You, also, are too defeated to fight against him any longer. Poor Auriga, your dear friend. With a gruff command he points to two other guards and then to your fallen friend.

Without any hesitation, the both of them lift her up by either arm, and she groans in protest. You whimper her name, and again, you receive no response. The poor she-troll is too injured and tired to fight back. The guards holding her reveal no expression. You want to shout to the heavens. This isn't what you wanted.

With a growl from the troll holding you, you all leave the tavern. With the troll clutching you in the lead, he throws you over his shoulder again as one might a sack of potatoes. You flinch at the rough treatment, and recall the last time you were thrown over the shoulder of one of these brutes. It had ended in the loss of everyone you held dear.

Taking a long look at Auriga, your last remaining friend, you remember an old saying. Those who forget history are doomed to repeat it. With a dejected sigh, you suppose the statement rang true.

You knew the fate of Auriga. But what was in store for you once you returned to that fanciful castle that held the monstrous creature that you were unbreakably tied to?

You would have plenty of time to think up the worst possible scenarios on the long, dreaded walk back.

In the meantime, you looked toward the tavern, remembering the wondrous world it had been not an hour before now. The broken stands littering the stone walkways would probably go untouched for a long time to come.

You stared at that once grand place for as long as you could. But before the tavern completely vanished from view, you thought you saw a troll standing amongst the rubble, the one empty sleeve of their shirt fluttering in the breeze.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so it's been 2 months since I've last updated (whoops)  
> but I come bearing good news! We get to see our favorite capricious clown next chapter! Whoo!
> 
> Now, in the meantime, how about this one? What do you guys think will happen to Auriga?
> 
> Please leave a comment! I treasure them endlessly (and they give me motivation to write faster!)


	24. Impulsive

The road was quiet. 

The towering trees that filtered the moonlight stood rigid along your pathway as you, Auriga, and your brutal escorts marched on through the night. The crunching of gravel under heavy boots were the only sound permeating the otherwise silent nightfall.

With every exhausting step taken by your captors, the closer the inevitable seemed. The icy dark did well to hide the fright your features betrayed. An unspoken question capered mockingly in your head: what would become of you once you arrived?

You knew the Grand Highblood would be seething with rage at your disappearance, but one couldn't know what he would do upon your return. Would he be overcome with delight and demand a celebration? Would he barricade you in a room so that you could never leave again? Would he slaughter you like sacrificial lamb regardless of your status as his prophet? Whatever his reaction, the atmosphere in that magnificent castle would be forever changed because of your absence. In what way? Time would only tell.

The trees, in their silent vigil, seemed to understand your circumstances, but, with cold indifference, did not respond to you. They knew what punishment awaited you at your destination in purgatory, where judgment paces the floor. The groaning wind fluttering their leaves was the only answer they gave. 

The trees were as pale as parchment and they reached heavenwards. The very tips of their limbs were close enough to brush the stars, who sparkled with unparalleled splendor. They too, seemed to understand the tragedy you played the starring role in. However, they were content to watch your story play out with no interference whatsoever. Waltzing delightedly in a black ballroom void, they stayed just as unapologetically detached as the trees. Once upon a time, you waxed poetic about their beauty, and how nothing on Earth could compare to the elegance of this foreign galaxy.

What a spectacle they seemed during that time when you were innocent and new to this world. But now? You were a different person. You saw this cold planet differently than you once did. The stars were no more a masterpiece than you were a young servant in love with a wayward renegade.

You wondered what you look like from up above. What must your character be as seen from celestial view? You thought of the Mirthful Messiahs watching down upon you, knowing fully well what they knew you to be.

With a small sigh, you rested your heavy head in the cradle of your arms. The burdensome thoughts that raged in your brain weighed enough to crush civilizations. The loose grip of your captor's hand as he held you close was comparative to a heavy blanket. The steady swaying of his shoulders as he walked felt like the comfort of a rocking chair. Back and forth and back and forth like the smooth flow of a conductor's baton.

Before long, your eyelids were straining to keep open, and you could no longer fight the pull of slumber.

. . .

When you opened you eyes, you were lying on your back, staring at the top of a pitched circus tent. It took you a good five minutes for you to figure out where you were.

Shit.

"WELCOME THE MOTHERFUCK BACK, LIL' MAMA" a familiar voice shouted vigorously at you. They were millennia old deities, how did they have so much energy? The last birthday you had celebrated was your twenty-fourth and you didn't even come close to having as much zest as they did.

With an inconvenienced groan, you lifted your head to look at the two seated bastards on your left.

There they sat, expressions concealed by massive bone-masks, but if their posture was anything to go by, their attitudes were just as carefree as could be. The one on the right seemed almost ready to leap out of his chair in excitement. You tried to quell the annoyance bubbling inside you.

You said nothing as you rose to your feet. Rage was steaming from every pore as you glared at the all-powerful gods seated above you.

You had quite the bone to pick with these two. You wished you had some eloquent jeremiad composed to recite your grievances from, but you had nothing but your own memory. Which, in this case, would serve you well enough. It was high time these troglodytes knew how troublesome they had made these last few days.

"Motherfucker, you are shakin' with righteous fury, what happened to your miraculous self since you've last been jammin' with us?"

What's happened to you? You've just been itching to complain about the hardships you'd faced in these past few days. The poor fools had just provided the perfect opportunity for you to completely blow up in their faces.

Lets see . . .

First the rebel camp burned down, killing dozens of trolls and almost killing you in the process. Then, you had to live on the run with your bitter and potentially dangerous ex-mateprit. Then you had to have the misfortune of both you and Auriga taken hostage by guards. Cygnus was nowhere to be found after that. Now, you were more than bruised from the harsh treatment your "escorts" had given you, and heaven only knew the extensive damage done to poor Auriga. Now, she was walking toward her death, and you to your irrevocable destiny.

You could tear your hair out at the injustice of it all. Clenching both your fists and teeth, you forced yourself to speak in periods instead of exclamation points.

"You said you would help me."

"And we motherfuckin' did. The insidious peasant-blood has left your pious presence. He's as good as dead now, and you're on your motherfuckin' way to Kurloz."

"So, in order to separate him from me you burn down an entire camp and almost kill me in the process?"

"THOSE FILTHY HERETICS CAN DANCE IN THE DARK CARNIVAL, BUT REMEMBER, LIL' MAMA, AS HOLY PROPHET FOR THE MESSIAHS, YOU ASKED FOR OUR DIVINE ASSISTANCE. YOU DIDN'T SPECIFY WHAT YOU WANTED DONE."

You took a deep breath and counted to ten. It would be useless to argue against them, even if your mind begged for an emotional release. Rolling your shoulders, you felt your chest expand and deflate. Calm. You are calm. You are not thinking about blowing a fuse.

You would get nothing accomplished by running your mouth off to two alien gods. You were already pissed off. There was no need to make the situation worse. Even if they couldn't technically harm you, they still had the power to make your life absolutely miserable. And even with good intentions, you had to be precise in your requests or your existence would be hell anyway.

"And even if your wicked ass had found your way here in death, what's preventing us from bringing you back using the sacred stardust?"

"YOU SPEAK THE TRUTH, BROTHER. FEAR NOT, LIL MAMA, AS LONG AS YOUR MIRACULOUS MISSION STAY INCOMPLETE, YOU HAVE IMMORTALITY AS LONG AS PROPHECY GOES UNFULFILLED."

"'Sides, once you return to Kurloz, nothin' malicious going your motherfuckin' way is makin' it past the front door."

The laughed among themselves, raucous and wild. The sharp teeth from their jaw just barely visible underneath their morbid masks as the harsh delight leaves their mouths. The glass baubles hanging at their hips clinking together with sudden movement. You honestly didn't find whatever they said to be so funny, but you weren't about to ask. You were focusing on another part of their conversation.

'Bring you back'? 'Immortality'? Could it be true? Did they actually have the ability to resurrect you should you die? What potential that could have for you!

But you had to make sure . . .

Interrupting their boisterous hysterics, you make sure to shout your next words. "So you guys can bring me back to life?"

Their laughter fades to wheezing as they look at you. The one on the right rest his massive horned head on balled fist, looking down at your through the eye sockets of his eccentric headwear.

"I SEE THAT LURID GLEAM IN YOUR EYES, LIL' MAMA. YES, YOU HAVE MOTHERFUCKIN' UNLIMITED ACCESS TO THE DARK CARNIVAL, BUT," he pauses to point a lengthy, clawed finger at you,"DON'T GET ANY MOTHERFUCKIN' IDEAS. YOU POSSESS THE RIGHTEOUS POWER TO INTERPRET MIRACLES, IT IS NOT A GIFT THAT IS TO BE TAKEN LIGHTLY. IF YOU ABUSE YOUR WICKED ABILITIES AS A PROPHET, YOU WILL BE DAMNED TO PERISH IN THE VAST HONK."

This is the sternest you have ever seen the fun-loving, all-powerful deities. Your prophecy must be especially serious if they can bring you back to life. A part of you feels contrite about arousing their suspicion, but you say nothing more.

You raise your hands innocently in a display that you meant no offense. You would heed their advice; don't take advantage of this opportunity.

"You may take your motherfuckin' leave whenever you please. Until the wicked stardust decrees we meet again, miraculous mama." The one on the left gestures toward the closed tent flaps behind you. A subtle hint for you to leave. 

The striped fabric of the big-top shuddering in the wind. However, there was no wind to be felt. Raising a hand in farewell to them, you walk towards the exit. 

You were curious, just what was this Dark Carnival like exactly?

The last time you were here, it looked to be quite lively. Carousels and Ferris wheels, and all sorts of amusement park attractions. The glitter of the flickering lights and the sounds of an automated calliope called something nostalgic deep inside of you. The atmosphere seemed so magical. An irresistible call to your inner child looking for excitement.

Tentatively parting the heavy flaps, you peer outside the tent.

The first thing you noticed were the crowds of trolls. 

The last time you witnessed this place, not a soul was to be found. It was lively then, even without trolls in it, but any carnival feels eerie without people (or trolls) to experience it.

They sounded just like any carnival goers, laughing maniacally and shrieking as the darted about from attraction to attraction. Trolls of every hue seemed to congregate in this vast carnival. What they were doing here, you hadn't any idea, but it wasn't your place to know. However, you were curious as to why they weren't here last time.

The whistle of the calliope was becoming muted with the excessive volume of various trolls. The further you journeyed into the carnival, the louder they seemed to be. 

But . . .

There was something about these trolls. Something terribly wrong.

The vacancy in their eyes. The desperation in the way they moved. The echo in their throats as the screamed. The way none of them made eye contact with you. They're lips were stretched wide, but they were not smiling.

They looked . . . hollow inside. Like their bodies were vacant of any spirit.

Suddenly, the music of the calliope sounded much more sinister than it had before.

Just what purpose did the Dark Carnival serve? Was it a purgatory? A place for the souls of wayward trolls to float for eternity?

You broke into a sprint, scanning the crowd for any sign that you were wrong in your suspicions.

The noise continued. The darting of empty eyes continued. You ran faster.

You kept your pace until you heard an all too familiar voice wrench out a guttural scream.

All at once you stopped. Icy claws had curled around your heart at the chilling sound. You felt your cervical vertebrae pop with the force of your body turning around. Was that . . .?

It couldn't be.

With wild eyes, you searched the crowd for their face. The sea of sorrowful grey skin floundering their way about the grounds of the carnival made your insides twist. The outreach of clawed hands was a sickening sight in and of itself. It was a sight you couldn't imagine them in. You were ready to dismiss having heard them at all, when suddenly, horrifically, you locked eyes with them.

Boinae.

Oh gracious, the poor soul had never looked so lost. Their hands were gripping either side of their head with the look of mad person. You could see their whole body trembling from where you stood. They were moving unwillingly as the crowd pulled them in every direction at once. They let out another bone-chilling scream.

You were right. This was purgatory.

Darting hurriedly about the crowd, you reach toward your old friend. Never in your life had you been more unhappy to see them. How could this have happened to Boinae? What had they done to deserve this?

You gently touch their shoulder, only to flinch away when they let out another agonized wail at your touch. When they looked at you, they seemed to be staring past you at some horrible entity in the great beyond. The slit of their snake-like pupils as thin as needles.

"Boinae," you speak softly, voice quavering with unshed tears,"What happened to you?" It grieved you to see your friend this way. It hurt you even worse knowing that it was your fault they died in the first place. You would have to live with the knowledge that you condemned them to live like this.

You wave a gentle hand in front of their face. They still stare blankly through you, continuing to scream. Falsifying your existence without a single word.

Suddenly, the pupils in their serpentine eyes glazed over with white, bleeding into their corneas. "Boinae . . ." you whisper again, horror creeping into your voice. You cover your mouth as the white glaze covers their entire face and drips into the atmosphere around you. The drops on the grass flood into the earth and cover your feet within seconds.

With abrupt realization, you realize what's happening. You're waking up. You're leaving this world. You're going to leave your friend again.

"Boinae!" You shout their name once again, only to be greeted with more petrified screaming.

They are not aware of the white, glowing substance building upon itself to cover your hips and climbing faster and faster over your ribs and to your shoulders.

Frantic desperation makes your grab them by their arms and shout with as much volume as you can muster. "Boinae! I'm sorry that I got you killed! I didn't mean to!" you hiccup on the word "killed," ashamed of the word, "I didn't mean to!"

As the glaze covers your eyes, you feel a twinge of guilty satisfaction that at least you apologized to them. Even if they couldn't hear you, the words had been spoken.

All at once, and with gradual silence, the screaming stops and you could faintly make out the confused jumble of syllables forming your name as the world submitted to white.

. . .

Fluttering your eyelashes, you groaned in discomfort at the stiffness felt in your neck. Falling asleep on an armored shoulder was not one of your best decisions. Your muscles strained as you lifted your heavy head. Still drowsy from heavy slumber, you eyes registered the world around you with muffled coherency.

Your ears rang as you heard furious yelling. 

Flinching, you focused on the source of the distressed noises. 

Below you, still anchored by the locked hands of guards, stood a flailing Auriga. As dignified as a flopping angler fish, she bared her crooked teeth in a vicious display of insubordination. Jerking her arms violently, the blue guards holding her looked as inconvenienced as they possibly could be. She was putting up quite the fight against her oppressors. You could hardly blame her. These trolls had subjugated her people for her entire life, if what she told can be believed. There was a snowball's chance in hell she would follow them willingly. 

However, her struggling did raise a few questions in your mind. Why wait until now to put up a fight? Why wait at all?

You didn't struggle against your captors. It was fruitless to do so. You had learned early on that there is little point in fighting back. A lack of claws, no sharp teeth, and a healthy amount of self-preservation were all excellent reasons as to why not to engage in conflict with an armored alien.

"You bastards will never take me in there alive!" She growled defiantly, kicking and screaming all the while. 

In where? What was she talking about? You were no where near any establishment. There was just you, and the empty path.

Suddenly, in spite of what you had just said, a massive shadow grew overtop your company. Squirming in the guard's grasp, you turn around, once again facing the foreboding structure looming overhead.

The Grand Highblood's castle. 

It was just as you remembered the last time you saw it.

The black walls towered overhead like that of a holy sanctuary. The crooked architecture climbed above the clouds, almost reaching the heavens where you knew the Messiahs were watching. The whole castle was lit from the roof of the highest tower to the darkest quarters below. It cast an eerie glow against the darkened night sky, sending a thrill down to your heart. You were here.

Even though you knew death itself waiting behind the doors, a small, contrite part of you was relieved to be at the castle again. A holy sanctuary indeed. At least here, you would be safe. However, the Grand Highblood would be the one to decide just how "safe" you would be.

The guards standing watch on either side of the massive entryway gave pause as they looked at each other. They took one look at you, and instantaneously, a look of relief was painted across their visages. How odd.

The guard holding you against his shoulder nods to the guards as a command to open the door. With the hinges screaming in protest, the massive doors swing slowly open, allowing passage to your escorts. As you enter, you can see the maniacal gleam in their eyes as they look at Auriga, who has begun frothing at the mouth with rage as she is dragged against her will into the lair of the beast. Her frustrated screams echoing off the high stone walls.

"LET GO OF ME!" she screams in outrage. The guards restraining her continue to enter, ignorant of her suffering.

Your escorts waste no time in rushing toward the throne room doors. The wide room of the entryway breezes past you as the guards hurry their pace. The fear you feel is a living thing slithering in the pit of your stomach. You feel you are going to be sick. This may be the last time you see any other other room in this magnificent hive.

The doors you are currently charging toward aren't heavy enough to muffle the enraged roaring behind them. The clattering of massive, bloody clubs. The soft begging of another troll. Your throat constricts in worry.

You dig your nails into your hand. Repressed memories are making an unwanted appearance. Auriga is not helping with her shrieking. You know the poor girl can't help it, but tell that to your shaking hands.

With little fanfare, the guard holding you slams open the doors.

Auriga immediately silences her screaming.

There he is.

One clawed hand was clutching the skull of a guard whose body lay below. In the other hand, he had a tightened grip around a bone white club. Blue blood was splattering the surface, undoubtedly fresh. The heaving of his massive chest showed exerted effort and the bags under his eyes betrayed his stress. He was just as you remembered.

Another guard stood cowering in the corner, fearful of his life and trying to hide from the Highblood's malicious eye.

A worryingly large pile of blue armored bodies lay underneath the one the Highblood just finished off. He'd done this several times before. This behavior had become habit.

Aware of the presence of multiple trolls in the doorway, he jerked his head in your direction, adjusting his position on the throne.

Obviously expecting more guards to add to his "collection," he tenses his shoulders and snarls toward the open doorframe. His face-paint was beyond recognition. The gleam of saliva on his teeth promised a vicious conflict to the next troll to enter. You had never seen him more savage. Not when you had first met him, not when that winged troll had taunted him with you, and not even when you were kidnapped. He looked like the devil.

That was, until he saw you.

It took a minute for him to register your presence. But when he did, his eyes widened in unparalleled shock. He blinked a few times, as if unsure you really there. He drops his club with a clatter, leaning forward in his throne. Then suddenly, his eyes soften, reverting to a golden yellow. He murmurs your name, low and reverent. 

"Bring the prophet here." He orders in a sharp command. You stiffen.

The guard holding you doesn't hesitate in handing you to his superior. The blue-blood shudders as you are transferred into the hands of the Highblood. The guard grasps you around your torso as a gigantic, calloused hand envelopes your middle before holding you in a protective embrace. The powerful muscles of his biceps had never felt so gentle and comforting. The hands that had caused such violence minutes before run soothing strokes up and down your back.

You are deeply confused. This is a reaction one would give someone deeply close to them. It was like he was being reunited with a lost lover. You definitely didn't have that type of relationship with him. At least, from your perspective you didn't have that type of relationship. From your point of view, you both were roommates in the loosest denotation of the word. But perhaps he saw you differently? Just how important were you to him?

You suddenly feel a low rumbling in his chest, and you have to stifle a laugh. 

A capricious murder capable of genocide purrs whenever a measly little human is in his arms. The irony is almost too much for you to handle. The vibrations against your resting head send pleasant signals through your body, almost like a massage. 

With tender, but reluctant hands, you lean into his embrace. You slither delicate arms around his sturdy neck. His curly mane all but buries your appendages in black hair. He breathes slowly, satisfied, lifting your body with every inhale. Good. You doubt he would appreciate it if his hug went unreciprocated. You had never seen the Highblood so calm. It was like you were being cradled by a slumbering lion.

He holds you for several moments then quietly loosens his arms. They still remain around you, but you both are not close enough for his touch to be considered another hug. He asks the guard where you were found in a cold aggressive voice, contrasting heavily with his gentle hold on you.

The guard beamed mischievously and stepped aside, revealing a petrified Auriga, "We found this peasant-blood with her," he said, pointing at the she-troll, she who was too shocked to object to the insult, "they were at a bazaar, sir, and the human looked as if she had suffered several injuries from this lowblood's hand." The guard all but spits the words.

It was then you remembered the deep scratch running down your hand, the bruises on your arms and ribs, and the various other injuries dotting your body like an abstract painting. Your capture had not gone smoothly and they were trying to blame Auriga for it! 

Deeply offended on behalf of your friend, you open your mouth to defend her honor only to have the Highblood speak before you could manage the words.

"This blasphemous motherfucker will regret the injury she's done to a miraculous prophet of the Mirthful Messiahs." He growls disdainfully, looking at the trembling she-troll, who in turn, was looking right back at him, frozen in terror. "A visit to the Dark Carnival ought to school-feed this heretic on how to treat a holy prophet."

With a low growl, The Grand Highblood reached for his club, grasping the handle with vengeful fingers. He swings the instrument of destruction with practiced ease, itching to slam the weapon into someone. Someone, unbeknownst to him, very dear to you.

Before he had the opportunity to rise from his throne and flatten Auriga into a pancake, you pull away from embrace and spoke to him.

"Wait!" An quiet exclamation. Your voice embarrassingly cracks. You're afraid of what you're going to ask him. There is no telling what he'll do to you if he refuses what you're about to request.

What did the Messiahs call him? What was his name? Kurloz?

"Kurloz . . ." He stiffened at the whisper of his name falling from your lips,"she doesn't need to die. She didn't do anything to me!" Your voice trembled uncontrollably. Pitifully. His steady gaze on your person did not help the tremor in your words, but you spoke them anyway. You lay a gentle hand on his muscled shoulder, hoping to appeal to his better nature.

"Even if the bitch didn't lay a hand on you, she still had a role to play in your motherfuckin' abduction. Don't think I don't recognize this lowblood's symbol, lil' mama." He emphasized this by pointing the heavy club in Auriga's direction. Her thin pupils were the size of dinner plates. The poor girl looked like she was disassociating.

With no warning what-so-ever, he rose out of his throne like a poised jaguar, ready to strike. Raising a the blue painted club above his head, the jagged spikes running along the sides glistened in the firelight of the torches lining the wall. Auriga was too terrified to move. She, who had led a rebel faction against the highbloods, who had probably seen countless battles, and had witnessed the ruination of her camp was struck silent by the horror that was the Grand Highblood, prowling toward her like a lion in the grass.

Time was ticking, Auriga's life was on the line. You had to think fast.

"Wait! Stop! I'll do anything!" You shouted before you could think of the repercussions.

The room was tensely silent for a few minutes. Everyone in the room looked at you.

Kurloz paused, lowering his club. Your heart leaped in your chest. He furrowed his brows for a minute, then his eyes gleamed.

Then he grinned at you, a terrifying question poised on his lips.

"Anything?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hooray, the Highblood's back! Woohoo, bring out the champagne!
> 
> I'm glad I got this chapter finished before the holidays so you all can enjoy it. Please leave a comment if you enjoyed it. Even if you didn't enjoy it, leave a comment anyway! I like to hear from you guys, it speeds up my writing process.


	25. Hesitance

The ends justify the means.

A peculiar phrase. It was one you had never really pondered over. But now, you felt as if time itself had stopped just for you to think about the string of words. A simple sentence with the weight of every human action and inaction behind them. Conquests had been carried out because of seven syllables. Wars had been fought for five words. A friend had been saved.

'Anything' you had said. Anything.

It was the first thing that had come to mind, so, impulsively, you had said it.

You can't find it in yourself to regret it though. Even if Kurloz's eyes gleamed with untold delight. Even if the blue guards stared at you in horror. Even if you could feel the glee of all-powerful deities watching from the Dark Carnival. There was no regret in your soul. Auriga lives because of you. Your friend finds herself indebted to you because of the words you had spoken. Anything. Anything his heart desired.

And apparently, he desired you.

He had said he would sleep with you, albeit in a very bizarre and archaic fashion.

And now here you were, lying in a bed, waiting for a literal monster to come and ravish you. Every action has a consequence. And here was yours.

What a fool you were.

However, it wasn't completely your fault. How were you supposed to know he found you sexually attractive? He gave no indication what-so-ever.

Sure, he's made indications that he enjoys your company, but that's no reason to jump to the conclusion that he likes you.

Besides, the obvious differences between you both were so startling, you'd think they'd be enough to drive him away. You both were so completely alien to one another.

The differences in your height for one thing. The way he towered over you, easily capable of picking you up like a doll and having his way with you. His wild mess of a mane, longer than your hair would ever be, even if you never cut it. Coiled and curly and puffy and soft, you remember feeling the strands brush your arms as you tenderly embraced him. His massive jaws, square and embellished with rows of sharp teeth, hid a lewd, slithering tongue. Not to mention his voice, loud and deep and utterly guttural, stirring feelings in your gut.

You flinched. Now it was sounding like _you_ were starting to become attracted to that brute.

You frowned. It wasn't really fair to call him a brute. You turn on your side, curling your arm over your head. He's done plenty of things to prove his worthiness toward you.

Like when the two of you had dinner together, and when he put you in his quarters when you were injured from when that flying troll tried to strangle you.

When he attempted to kill Cygnus.

You flinched again. You didn't know it at the time, but Kurloz was looking out for you even then. You didn't know the threat that your ex-matesprit would pose, but in a jealousy-clouded state of mind, Kurloz could have ended your relationship before it spiraled into something chaotic and harmful. Instead of brutally maiming Cygnus, the heavy blow to his frame very well could have killed him and ended his well crafted charade once and for all.

You flop on your back haphazardly, upset at the places your mind had gone, and immediately regret the action once a searing pain raced up your spine and through your ribs. A dull throbbing echoes throughout your entire body and you let out a pained whimper at your careless actions.

You must look pitiful in this state. A small, shaking body in a too large bed wracked with frightful flashes of pain. You sigh.

Even after all the grime and dirt had been scrubbed off of you and you had been carefully dressed in soft, comfortable clothing, nothing completely erased the damage done by the armored guards.

When Kurloz had discovered the true reason your bruised arm was curled protectively around your middle, it had taken him all but five minutes to hunt down the guard that had carried you and rip his head from his body. A bit dramatic in your opinion, but a small, vengeful part of you was happy the troll that had caused you such injury was dead and gone. No reward money for him.

You would laugh if it wouldn't hurt.

The white ribbon around your damaged arm looked more like the delicate wrapping of a present than the handiwork of a dutiful doctor. Raising the tender appendage, the tightly bound fabric had caught the light of the two moons.

Peering behind your raised arm, you couldn't help but feel nauseatingly nostalgic.

You remember lying in someone else's bed looking up at the green and pink lights respectively. Their colors were just as intense as they had been then, and they still looked down on you in judgement. You remember passively ignoring their appraisal, happily devoting yourself to your partner and contemplating if you were in love.

How delusional.

You knew now not to dismiss the opinions of celestial bodies so easily. There were consequences to every action, and even your passive ignorance could leave you in dangerous places without any help.

There were gods that existed that you had no idea of before you came here. Who was to say that the moons themselves weren't gods?

The two crescents payed their gradual farewell over the horizon, promising to return again in the next evening. The beautiful fade of colors should have brought joy, but instead, a cold seed of fear continued to grow in your heart. The sun's arrival would bring with it Kurloz and your unpaid debt.

So you lay in the cushion of the bed, breathing deeply to soothe your anxiety and aching body. Remember why you're doing this. Auriga, _your friend's life,_ is worth any request Kurloz had of you.

It was going to be alright. He would not hurt you. Whether or not his affection for you existed, your status as a prophet would keep you safe.

Besides, he had shown you kindness before, what made now any different?

With dramatic grace, the white hot star loomed above the other end of the planet, thus ending and beginning a new cycle.

Your arm lowered with cool deliberation. The waiting game had begun.

. . .

The sky was beginning to turn yellow when Kurloz entered the room, and not at all as expected.

If you hadn't known better, you'd say he was drunk. The crooked stumble of his powerful legs made you fear he'd fall over and cause an earthquake. The outstretch of his muscled arms truly emphasized how delirious he was, and the curl of his massive hands made him look just as dizzy as a tipsy frat boy. But his expression conveyed complete sobriety. He wasn't drunk. He was exhausted.

The dark bruises under his eyes had been etched in so deeply, it made you wonder if he had slept at all since you left. The low groan vibrating his throat was definitely cause for worry. Before you could ask him if he was okay, he surprised you by collapsing unto the bed face first.

The sudden distribution of weight difference made the bed creak and jerk your lighter body.

A shrill gasp tore through your throat before you could stop it. However, Kurloz seemed to be too out of it to hear you. His back steadily rose and fell with his heavy breaths, the only thing showing you he was awake was the occasional rumble causing a tremor in the bed. Of course, he would come to you this late. At the end of a stressful night, of course he would be looking for you to soothe him. Soothe him in a very specific way. You gulped. You could feel a nervous sweat dripping down your back, only stopping when soaked up by the fancy strips of fabric winding around your torso.

You cleared your dry throat with a small cough.

"D-Did . . . did you want to start?"

He didn't move for a minute. You contemplating saying the words again, but for fear of sounding like a blushing prude again, you kept quiet. With slow movements that probably didn't mean to frighten you as much as they did, he raised his head.

His tangled mess of hair covered his eyes as he addressed you.

"What?"

You could feel your face heat up. Did he expect you to initiate this . . . this corrupt transaction? What did he think you were, some crimson harlot? Master of the bedroom?

If your idea of what a prophet coincided with what his idea of a prophet was, didn't that make you some sort of holy person?

Regardless, you had to do this. For Auriga's sake.

With a deep breath and cheeks hot enough to light a candle, you lift the ends of your shirt. Curling your shaking fingers into the soft fabric, you cross your arms to lift the front over your bandages and chest, wincing when the stretching muscles ached something fiercely. If he wanted a demonstration from the seductress he thought you were, then he was going to be sorely disappointed.

Before your trembling hands could pull the fabric any higher, a clawed hand settled over the front of your shirt, yanking it down.

"What the motherfuck, lil' mama!?"

You looked up at his face, which was frantic and honestly embarrassed. If you looked hard enough, you could see a bright heliotrope flush under his white face paint. It matched his bright eyes, which, however startled, were just as beautiful as you remembered. They were currently flickering between his hand on the hem of your top and your face, which you were sure was hotter than even the sun outside.

"Wait, I thought you wanted to do this?" You questioned him, confused, but not as distressed as Kurloz obviously was.

"I got no motherfuckin' clue of what was going through that miraculous thinkpan of yours whenever I said you were gonna be SLEEPING with me, but it had nothin' to do pailin', lil' mama."

Oh.

That's what he meant.

You didn't understand what pailing meant, but if context clues told you anything it was the troll equivalent of doing the horizontal tango. Funny, Cygnus didn't say trolls had a different word for knocking hips.

"'Sides, you're lookin' a little too fragile to be doing anything that strenuous, no matter how delicious you may look." From spooked to suave in a matter of seconds, Kurloz had let go of the hem of your shirt to gently brush his knuckles against the side of your heated face. A surprisingly sensual gesture, nothing you would expect of someone like him.

Any witty rebuttal you could have conjured up in your mind was contradicted by your throat trying to take in air. Kurloz was too smooth for your awkward ass. If it were physically possible, your jaw would have hit the floor. Instead, you just gaped like an above-water fish.

"Um . . ." You squealed.

He took a deep breath, dropping his hand from your face. You tried to name the emotion growing in your chest as the contact was broken, but found you couldn't. He chuckled solemnly. "Furthermore, there is no doubt in my mind that you would get your wicked fright on should I make the slightest advance toward your miraculous self."

"Don't look so motherfuckin' flabbergasted, lil' mama," he continued, sliding into the other side of the bed, "I see the way you stare at me." He finished, a shadow falling over his eyes, a bitter air settling in between you both. Now your throat was caught for a different reason. Your guilt felt like a living thing crawling up your esophagus. He felt rebuffed by your fear. In order to stay in his safekeeping, you needed his trust.

In a moment of bravery, you reach out your hand to latch unto his retreating arm. "Wait," you whisper, hardly believing your impetuousness, "it isn't true."

He takes one skeptical look at you, and hums unconvincingly in response. Further burying himself on the massive amounts of cushioning beneath the both of you, his disbelief is evident.

Encompassed by the stubborn, impulsive courage rising in your gut, you respond by pulling yourself closer to him. "I'll prove it." You say, looking right at his confused eyes.

He has no time to respond as you rise from your position on your back and into his arms. Your ribs and arm protest from the sudden movement, but you ignore it in favor of gaining his trust again. With your back against his chest, you encourage him to wrap his forearms around you.

It's a more intimate version of the embrace you two shared in the throne room, and hopefully it got the message across. You'd faced too many dangers on this planet to fear someone who wanted nothing from you but your companionship.

You felt Kurloz relax behind you. His arms curled around you further, on their own accord. He seemed to take great care not to jostle you.

"Alright, lil mama. I believe you. But I'm still not motherfuckin' pailin' you. You're lookin' like you might shatter if I so much as looked at you the wrong way." He laughed under his breath, in much better spirits.

You took great care not stiffen, but nothing could help the heat rising to your cheeks for the millionth time that morning.

. . .

He fell asleep much sooner than you did.

You couldn't blame him. With the stress he had no doubt experienced throughout the night, combined with the comfort of having you back, a heavy and peaceful slumber was only natural to follow.

It wasn't long before rhythmic rumbling echoed behind your head.

You tried to hide your grin against the bicep under your head.

He was snoring.

The situation was so surprisingly domestic, you couldn't help but laugh, even if your ribs ached. Hopefully the muscled arm you were muffling your delight against wouldn't wake the troll behind you. Then again, with how noisily he was snoring, it didn't seem like anything could wake him up.

You sighed contentedly.

Honestly, if a week ago someone told you that you would be happily embraced by a sleeping Grand Highblood, whom you had convinced to cuddle you, you would have laughed yourself silly.

A week ago, you were probably sleeping out in a dank cave after the rebel encampment had burned down. You were probably frightened of the capricious behavior Cygnus had exhibited, and you were probably exhausted from soothing Auriga, who had just watched her life's work smolder into ash. You were probably miserable, cold, and desperately wishing to be back in this hive.

Now? The tender moment you were enjoying right now wouldn't have been possible without the struggle and strife you had gone through. If you hadn't have left the hive, chances were you probably wouldn't have trusted Kurloz to go anywhere near his quarters again.

A heavy wheeze behind you brought you back to the present.

Now you were healing, warm, and comfortable in a protected embrace.

And you found yourself following Kurloz into slumber thinking, maybe the ends really do justify the means.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quickest chapter update since I think I started this fic. Which was two years ago, omg. This fic's getting on in the years.
> 
> Y'all are probably disappointed this wasn't smut, buT KEEP IN MIND OUR PROTAGONIST IS INJURED AND GHB UNDERSTANDS CONSENT.
> 
> In the meantime, please post your comments, I enjoy reading all of them! And I do mean all of them!


	26. A First Prophecy

You knew this was dream before you could cognitively process what was happening.

It was nothing truly mind-boggling, but certain details were . . . off.

The corners of your vision were fuzzy, and your body felt like a floating cloud. With the amount of bandages wrapped around you, you probably looked like a cloud too. That remark earned a chuckle out of you, and you were surprised to find out that your ribs didn't hurt when you laughed.

Gazing up and down the hallway, you noticed several inconsistencies with the real world. You recognized the room you were in to be the entryway to the main dining hall, but the room was off-kilter enough for you to realize something was wrong.

The torn tapestries and broken statues that had occupied the place were now miraculously mended and repaired. There were also several changes in the "decor." For one, you'd noticed the rather large blue splatters on the right wall. It was no doubt from Kurloz, but one could never predict the reasoning behind his actions. It could have been a punishment for a blundering guard. It could have been a instantaneous decision to paint the wall. You never knew with that guy.

Talking a leisurely stroll down the mind-altered hallway, you noticed a pair of servants walking closely and whispering to one another. Even without their aprons, you recognized them to be kitchen servants. They didn't appear to notice you, even though you were standing right in their path. How curious. Normally you caused quite the tizzy amongst the servants. You didn't blame them. Your alien appearance and favoritism from their master would definitely take some getting used to.

Courteously, you stepped out of their way. Discourteously, you leaned in to hear their conversation. What could you say? You were an incurable gossip. Your polite mannerisms only went so far.

"What do think Dualscar wants?"

"I dunno. Whatever it is, he must be desperate to come to the Highblood for it. I heard he hates landwellers."

"Well let's hope he doesn't stay too long, otherwise the throne room will be gaining a new shade."

"Which purple do you think will decorate the throne room?"

"If Dualscar brings Ahab Crosshairs, then there won't be a throne room left."

The two of them shuddered in tandem. They continued their whispering as they turned a corner out of your sight. You could still hear their soft voices bouncing off the stone walls.

Dualscar? Where had you heard that before?

_They're here to try and recruit lowbloods who are being treated unfairly in hives owned by highbloods. They also want to pillage the place. It's just what they do. I heard that Dualscar's ship was attacked just a few nights ago._

The echo of Cygnus's whispers slithered through your dreamy head. A voice in the wind, barely audible. Still heavy with memories and symbolism.

The message was clear, regardless of its deliverer. There was another highblood in the castle. And apparently, he was more powerful than Kurloz.

Curiosity beckoned you down the long corridor toward the throne room. You could hear two voices talking behind the heavy doors. Upon approaching, the voices increased in volume. You recognize one to be Kurloz, the rough grumble could not be mistaken for anybody else. The other, however, was deeply accented with stuttering on the 'w' sound. Both voices had escalated to a shout by the time you reached the door.

It took an extraordinary amount of effort to push open the door, but you managed to get it wide enough to shimmy through the opening. It slammed with all the subtlety of a train wreck. 

Neither troll noticed you entering the room, which you supposed was a good thing. Both of them looked ready to kill one another. Your presence would only add tension between them. Kurloz would fear for your safety, the stranger, this Dualscar, would probably be disturbed at the sight of such a foreign creature interrupting a meeting between him and another highblood.

Your first impression of Dualscar was that he was much shorter than Kurloz. That piece of information through you for a loop. What were those servants talking about? From the way they spoke, it sounded like Kurloz and Dualscar we're equals in combat. But looking at the caped troll in front of you, he didn't look like he could touch Kurloz.

Dualscar gave off a dignified aura. From the lightning bolt angle of his horns to the gold rings on his hands, he was fit for a gentile palace, not a blood splattered throne room. Even with fins for ears, this troll had the sharp face of aristocracy. Even with his namesake running diagonally brow brow to lower lip, the fine features were those of one's featured in rococo paintings. He was no fighter. If this argument came to blows, it would be clear who the winner would be. You tried not to feel smug.

"I've given you all the intel my fleet has gathered for her. Mindfang's probably gearing up to flee as w-we speak! So I beg your pardon if I refuse to stand here and listen to you make a mockery of me!" Dualscar curled his hands into fists, but his arms stayed by his side. He was furious, but his regal face gave no indication of such.

"It was a motherfuckin' joke!" Kurloz was leaning with one hand on his chin, his elbow on the armrest. He appeared completely at ease, but even from this distance you could see the slow transition of his scleras from yellow to orange. He was smiling, but it was tense, like he was grinding his teeth together. He was growing frustrated. You could feel chills running up your arms.

You looked back toward Dualscar, who's voice was hollow with disgust.

"It's treasonous and you know-w it. If you want a touch of purple in this sickenin' place, w-why not have a few-w subjugglators fall on their clubs?" His long lipped mouth curled into a sneer. Kurloz must have made a slight against him, probably something about his blood and where it belonged on his walls.

The torches flickered, reflecting the fury growing in his eyes. Something told you he wouldn't forgive such an insult. Kurloz remained where he was, still as a statue.

"You claim you're all highbloods, but I see nothin' but psychotic, landdwellin' barbarians, spewing tripe about some fictitious prophecies all the time!" He hissed, almost spitting upon the stone floor.

A part of you wanted to defend Kurloz and his beliefs. A part of you was shocked he would speak to him like that. You felt a bit disoriented hearing someone speak to him with a trace of fear in their voice.

The troll in question slowly lifted his head from his fist, letting the appendage rest on the arm of his seat. The torches dimmed in anticipation. You tried to settle your breathing. Even if it was a dream, your heart still pounded with enough force to knock you over.

He was silent for a moment, letting the moment and your anxiety build.

"Do you believe in miracles, brother?" He rumbled soft and low.

Dualscar clearly didn't pick up on the fact that his life was in danger and continued to taunt the troll seated above him. "Oh joy, more nonsense. As much as I'd like to stay and have you patronize me, I have an audience with the Condesce." With the last sentence, he turned with a dramatic swish of his cape and walked toward the entrance.

You darted out of his way, but not before catching the traces of fright on his face as he stormed toward the exit, a hair too quickly to be considered unbothered.

Kurloz didn't give him a chance to leave the room before he growled menacingly, "Did I say we were finished, motherfucker?"

You shivered. That voice did not invite refusal.

Dualscar carefully schooled his face as he turned to address Kurloz, "How dare y-?"

Kurloz rose from his seat, clawed hands gripping the club he swung over his shoulder. He didn't give a Dualscar the chance to finish his dignified statement. You darted further out of the way, not wanting to witness the blood shed that was about to occur.

"A Vast Honk awaits, brother, I know it to be true." Kurloz stalked toward Dualscar, who was all but shivering in his boots. His voice was escalating into a shout with every steady footstep. "You can't keep it away with heresy, you blaspheming motherfucker!" He roared at the cautious seadweller.

"Now just hold on a moment." Dualscar continued to step back toward the door, away from the furious highblood. Kurloz gave a twisted grin in response.

"You're crazy! A complete lunatic! You're whole religion's a joke!" Dualscar had lost the dignified edge in his voice as he was backed up against the door. Kurloz stood above him, his club, no longer on his shoulder but raised above his head.

Again he paused, processing Dualscar's words. Then he scowled.

"No, motherfucker, you're the joke."

Even though you turned your gaze away from the gruesome sight, the sound of bones crushing under tons of pressure was unavoidable.

With a deep, panicked breath, you closed your eyes, hoping that you would awaken from this strange dream soon. You didn't know what it signified and you were honestly scared to find out.

. . .

Suddenly, the soft sound of a broken calliope filled the air.

You opened your eyes to discover you were no longer in the throne room. As a matter of fact, it looked nothing like a throne room.

The top of a pitched circus tent towered high above your head while the soft, dry earth dusted the heels of your feet. The vivid striped fabric of the tent was shaking in the howling wind. The air smelled like fresh cotton candy and sacrificial blood.

You were in the Dark Carnival.

"CONGRATULATIONS!" Two voices clashed in discord as they shouted at you simultaneously.

Startled, you inhale a panicked breath and whirled around. Even though you knew no one else to inhabit this place, you were still surprised to see the two of them. Above you, the Mirthful Messiahs stood, puffed up like prize roosters. The one of the left had his hands clasped in front of him, calm but regal. The one on the right was clapping enthusiastically, but still stood no less dignified as the god beside of him. They both looked like proud parents.

Endeared, but still very unnerved by the gruesome sight you had just witnessed, you asked what was the occasion for saying such things. To your knowledge, you had done nothing deserving of recognition.

"Why, it's your first motherfuckin' prophecy! Such a bitchin' occasion deserves a congratulations, don't you concur, brother?" The two all-powerful gods looked beside themselves with infectious joy.

The one on the right seemed to agree wholeheartedly,"THIS PROPHECY BRINGS WITH IT GREAT THINGS, WICKED MAMA. WHEN THE EMPRESS'S HERETICAL ORPHANER COMES TO THE MOTHERFUCKIN' DARK CARNIVAL, THE VAST HONK DRAWS NEARER. THE STARS SPELL THE DEMISE OF THE BLASPHEMERS AS YOUR LIPS INTERPRET THEIR MIRACLES. IT IS ONLY A MATTER OF MOTHERFUCKIN' TIME."

The "empress's heretical orphaner"? Did they mean Dualscar? _You're_ the one who had brought that horrible vision to life? It wasn't just a meaningless dream?

Suddenly, the claims about your prophetic abilities seemed much more meaningful than before. You had believed them when it was said you were a prophet (however skeptically), but it hadn't really sunk in until now. Confused, and a little frightened, you asked them a few questions.

"How . . . How do I go about doing this? What if I'm wrong?" You take a handful of wheezing breaths. You didn't feel like a holy prophet right now. You felt like a panicked little girl given a task with unclear instructions. You felt pathetic, and the Messiahs must have sensed your stress.

The two gods looked at each other, baffled by your question. Now you felt shaken up _and_ embarrassed.

"We ain't that motherfuckin' sure, lil' mama."

"IT IS A PROPHET'S DUTY TO TRANSLATE MIRACLES, NOT OURS. WE CANNOT SPEAK TO THE SUBJUGGLATORS, FOR WE ARE NOT OF THEIR WORLD. ONLY YOU CAN SPEAK TO THEM AND OFFER THEM GUIDANCE." The one on the right said in a comforting tone.

"You'll have to figure it out on your own, motherfucker."

You understood they were trying to comfort you, but you still were confused. Questions buzzed in your brain like a swarm of frustrated wasps. How do you tell the difference from normal dreams and prophetic ones? What causes these prophecies? What were you going to do to make them come true? Your inquisitive mind produced an overwhelming amount of confusion and hesitant zealously.

Your first prophecy, what an adventure. Thinking back to the horror witnessed earlier, you hoped your next prophecy would be a bit gentler on the psyche. You doubt you could handle seeing a murderous Kurloz every time you closed your eyes. Seeing him enraged when you were awake was stressful enough.

If you were to dream up more prophecies, did you have to see this one through to the end first? Were they like puzzles you had to solve? Did you need to bring Dualscar to the hive somehow?

Before you could properly sound any of your questions out, you were interrupted.

"THE MOONS RISE, WICKED PROPHET, IT IS TIME YOU AWAKEN TO DELIVER YOUR DIVINITY!"

"Until we meet again, lil' mama!" 

The one on the right reaches for a glass jar of familiar power, and you stumble as uncorks the shining substance. A shower of sparkles catch the light as it tickles your nose. Suddenly, sleep is all you can think about. You whisper a single question before the haze overcomes your body.

"How do . . . I even . . . get to Dualscar . . .?" The last phrase is cut sort by a yawn and you tumble into another dreamland. Darker and darker, the world closes around you in a shimmering embrace.

"Sweet dreams, prophet, the Grand Highblood will be pleased when you awaken." The one of the left contritely said.


	27. A Lazy Evening

Something was off, but you were too comfortable to move so much as an inch.

The surface beneath you kept rising and falling. It was not a bed, for a bed did not move. It was steady, like a river rocking a little boat. It was slow, slow enough as to not disturb you from rest, but with broad enough movements to prevent you from sinking into another, heavy dream. If not for the soft blankets covering you, you would have honestly guessed that you were floating on gentle river. The low rumble beneath you felt almost like the water foaming at the bottom of a waterfall.

Wait.

The sudden realization of where you were felt like sailing over the water's edge.

Raising your groggy head, you looked at the slumbering beast who you were currently sleeping on top of. He had removed his odd bone vest at some point in the night, and the only thing separating the two of you was the thin material of your clothes.

Your heart was a living thing trying to bury itself in your rib cage.

Beneath you, Kurloz grumbled in his sleep, oblivious to the conflicting emotions trying to both dig their way below your sinking gut and flutter above your soaring heart.

He looked almost peaceful when he was asleep. Gone were the thin lines of stress etched in the corners of his eyes. The wicked grin his lips carried had relaxed to a thin line above his chin and under his nose.

Unlike the earlier in the day, he wasn't snoring. A fact which you were surprised to find you disliked. You knew it was strange to miss the equivalent of train engine leaving the mouth of Kurloz, but you did. His snoring gave him character. Instead of hulking monster below you, it was a sleepy bear, aggravated with his night and just wanting a good day's rest.

You lay watching him for a few minutes, feeling his chest rise and fall with lungfuls of air. Your delicate diaphragm inhaling at almost twice the rate of his. Occasionally he mumbled or groaned in sleep, turning his head, but never actually moving his torso.

He would shift, which made you jolt. He would huff, which made you chuckle. He was quite the different individual asleep than he was awake.

It wasn't until you looked outside that it occurred to you that you should probably get up.

The windows outside revealed the neon moons shining directly above. Both crescents hooked with a wide center, making them seem like gleaming smiles. The pink and green slices were two strokes of paint against a black canvas, signifying it was very late in the night. It was too late to be nestled in bed, or in your case, nestled atop Kurloz.

Biting your lip, you looked at the moons and you looked back at the slumbering troll beneath you.

You supposed you should make yourself useful and leave the bed. Something in your soul protests at the thought, but it is the most practical option for you at the moment.

You gave a sparing glance at the bandages on your arm. The crumpled material is soiled and has come undone in some places. Tentatively, you tuck the end of a soft bandage inside the bounded fabric that was wrapped tighter. It would have to do until you found a healer to replace them. The ones winding around your ribs looked to be in pretty decent shape, but you weren't about to take off your sleeping attire to see what had become of your injuries in the night.

A low mumble vibrated beneath you. You didn't know how lightly Kurloz slept, so if you wanted to leave this bed, it was best to tread carefully. One false move could awaken him, and then how would you explain yourself?

You just woke up like this?

Yeah, right.

With a deep breath, you began shifting to your left, ever so slowly. The moons watching you outside withheld their laughter as you impersonated a sidewinder on one of the most powerful beings on the planet.

You weren't so much afraid of his reaction waking up, but you were afraid of the awkwardness that would ensue afterward. How would one even emerge from that situation gracefully?

A tired groan falling from his lips caused you to freeze up. Perhaps you were a little bit scared after all. Biting your lip, you waited until he quieted, and only then did you continue your conquest to get off the bed.

But first, you had to get off Kurloz.

That's one small shimmy for you, a giant shimmy for prophetkind.

You giggled, only for your laughter to morph into a wince as your torso ached in protest. You honestly hated being injured.

You didn't have any time to throw yourself a pity party. These bandages needed attention, and if Kurloz woke up right then to see you dangling from the side of his chest like a koala, you'd honestly lose your mind.

You managed to slide even further, soft sheets just within your grasp before you were startled by a deep, rumbling voice addressing you.

"And just where do you think you're going, lil' mama?" The words themselves were accusatory, but his tone was not. You couldn't see his face at this angle, but you definitely could tell he was smiling.

Before your dry mouth could from a response, he gently plucked you from his side to set you back on top of him, much closer to his face than you originally were. He huffed amusedly as you felt heat rise to your face. This felt much more intimate than what you had woken up to.

With a heavy arm curled around your waist that prevented you from leaving, you had no choice but to look up into his face.

His features seemed softer in the twilight. The aggressive streaks of white face paint had been smudged in his sleep and his brows were no longer furrowed in wicked amusement. His eyes, however, had not changed in their beauty regardless of the time of day.

Two heliotrope discs that conveyed so much expression looked upon you with reverence. The gleam of the moons reflecting off of their surfaces further emphasized their otherworldly splendor. They sparkled with mirth.

Such was the domesticity of the moment, your overexcited heart fumbled your words.

"Um . . . I was just . . . I didn't mean . . ." Your tongue felt like taffy in your mouth. Sticking to syllables and tying your tongue in knots.

Kurloz felt none of your bashfulness, and instead chuckled softly at your embarrassment. The sound could be felt through his chest, lighting every cell in your body afire. He seemed unaware of the mangled feelings emanating from your heart, which you were infinitely grateful. He seemed too sleepy to be in a teasing mood this evening, but one could never tell with him.

You took a moment to revel in the quiet ambiance of his embrace. You knew it was likely you wouldn't experience this again this night.

You had to tell him about your dream. Your first prophecy.

A deep breath was taken.

It was a frightening thought. The last thing you wanted to do was disturb the gentle air that surrounded the both of you. You hadn't felt this soothed in a long time. Even if your heart pounded beneath your chest, your head and body was still in the comfortable limbo between rest and wakefulness.

But you had to tell him.

As if sensing the tension you placed on yourself, Kurloz furrowed his once relaxed brows. Pursing his lips, he rasped a question.

"What's got you all up and stressing out, lil' mama?"

He gently ran his heavy hand up and down your back in an effort to coax an answer out of you. All it did was make you want to curl back into his chest and sleep until the next night. Combating your heavy eyelids and fluttering heart, you looked him in his breathtaking eyes before you lost your nerve. With a soft breath, you whispered something to him.

"I had a dream last night."

His brows rose in subtle interest, "Hm?"

You shifted your gaze to across the room. The splatters walls provided no inspiration for your next words.

"I think it was a prophecy." You whispered, looking back up into his expecting features.

His response was instantaneous, and it shattered the tranquillity of the bedroom. You almost regretted telling him, but his enthusiasm was almost contagious.

His hands shifted to lift you close to his face. If your position was intimate before, there was no word to describe the precarious placement of your bodies. You could almost count his eyelashes at this distance.

"Really, motherfucker?!"

You confirmed again that you did indeed, have a prophetic dream last night. All while trying to smother the blood rushing to your ears and cheeks.

"The Messiahs have blessed this night, lil' mama! A cele-motherfuckin'-bration is in order!"

You laughed in delight at his words. Somehow, you recalled hearing them in your dream. You didn't know why Kurloz offing some aristocratic troll was so integral to the future, but you supposed everything had a meaning. You had never put much thought into the butterfly effect, but you supposed your stay here had opened your eyes to things you had never thought about before. Perhaps this Dualscar character represented something more important that what you had previously conceived? You'll have to ask the Messiahs because you honestly had no clue. Right now, you were just going to revel in Kurloz's happiness.

Kurloz himself continued, unaware that you had zoned out and weren't listening.

" . . . lucky for you, I had motherfuckin' invited someone to stay at the hive for a couple of cycles. Hopefully, they won't hinder our wicked celebrating." He said with a sly wink.

You felt all the blood flow out of your head, leaving nothing but icy air.

Perhaps you should have been paying more attention on who was going to be staying with you. This prophecy may be coming true sooner than expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a sweet chapter, and I liked it infinitely more than the last one.
> 
> Hopefully you guys feel the same way. :)
> 
> PLEASE leave a comment. :) I need that sweet, sweet validation y'all.
> 
> (OKAY. I fixed the thing where this was showing up as chapter 26 & 28\. I don't know how that happened. Unfortunately, some of your comments got deleted, (I think maybe 4 of you had commented?) But thanks for telling me there was an issue!)


	28. A Bad First Impression

Dualscar was a plague on your mind, but the company of a good friend and fresh bandages helped to soothe the frantic buzz in your head.

The crisp white material winding around your middle was definitely something you were grateful for. It was actually something you found superior to the earth equivalent. While the starch fabric back home could definitely soak blood up quickly and practically, these felt so much softer against your delicate skin. Your blood hardly showed through the fabric at all, which you supposed was the true benefit of this material.

You doubted Auriga needed to stress herself out any further than she already had.

When you had entered her new quarters, she had shouted your name and immediately enveloped you in a careful yet desperate embrace. Judging from her irritated, yellowing eyes and the shining streaks running vertically down her face, she had been quite upset before you came here. The poor girl undoubtedly blamed herself for the situation you both found yourselves in.

After your heartfelt embrace, she'd frantically asked what Kurloz had done to you. She didn't exactly refer to him as "Kurloz," but you knew what she meant. Auriga looked so distraught as she waited for your response.

Unsurprisingly, she took your answer with bitter skepticism.

"I'm sorry, did you spent the night with same troll we witnessed in the throne room? That brute doesn't have a gentle bone in his body. It's impossible." She spat with her lip curled.

You hesitantly reminded her that he spared her life when you asked him to.

"With stipulations! You had to lie with the bastard until the moons came up for me to be free," she shuddered with a disgusted growl. You didn't have the heart to tell her that the experience was not as awful as she pictured. "I wouldn't do that for all the boonbucks in Alternia." She ran her hands up and down her arms, trying to comfort herself from the hypothetical nightmare she'd imagined.

Her voice suddenly dropped to a vulnerable pitch as she led you to the place where she slept. The both of you sat upon a cot and conversed lowly. The moment sent a wave of nostalgia over you. You remembered a time where this was to be treasured, savoring exotic dishes and enjoying each other's company. The time you spent in the rebel encampment felt like a million years away. With the circumstances being what they were, this moment felt like a cheap imitation.

She didn't look at you when she spoke.

"When I saw this hive on the horizon, I thought my death was a guarantee the minute we crossed the threshold. When I saw him siting in that throne, face painted with rage, my life flashed before my eyes. I was fucking terrified." She paused, looking beyond the walls of the room and into a dark place where you couldn't reach for her.

Auriga had so much strength. It wasn't the first time you had seen her crumble, and it wouldn't be the last. Your heart swelled with sympathy, but instead of comforting her, you let her continue.

"The walls were waterfalls washed with blood. How many trolls had he culled here? In a instant, I was about to become nothing more than a mustard splatter. Just another paint source." She paused, giving you ample time for both you and her to process her words. Then, she looked at you. A deeply troubled expression was painted across her face.

"But then he saw you. And everything changed. It was like all his rage melted away. He looked like he had seen the stars for the first time. I had never seen such an expression on any troll, let alone the Grand Highblood." You were there when the event transpired, but you hadn't seen it happen through her eyes. You didn't catch the subtleties in Kurloz's expression. You knew he was relieved that you were safe, but you thought that was only due to the fact that you were a prophet under his protection, and the Messiahs would make his life miserable if anything happened to you.

The way Auriga worded the evening prior, she made it sound like you both were lovers reuniting after years spent apart.

What exactly did you mean to him?

You would have dwelled on it further had Auriga not continued.

"Why did you save me? Why would you purposefully invoke him to help me? If I were in your shoes, I'd be terrified of saying anything, much less demanding him something he had every right to do."

You asked her what she meant. She was your friend. You were her confidant. People you could trust on a planet like this were scarce. She was more valuable than she knew. You asked why she thought Kurloz had the right to kill her.

"Haven't you noticed why the trolls wearing warm colors are bound to servitude? And why the trolls wearing cooler colors are in positions of power? It's basically a sugjuggaltor's hatched right to slaughter any lowblood they see fit. Not to mention, stealing you was a grave offense now that I see he wants you in one of his quadrants. The only reason I didn't die that night was because of you."

Your conversation was creeping into territory you didn't feel comfortable with. Death had become a familiar topic floating about your head, and you'd rather swallow glass than even think about Auriga dying too soon.

With conversational skills you didn't know you possessed, you switched the subject gracefully to something more comforting. You asked Auriga what productive occupation she had taken up with in the hive.

With almost undetectable relief, she gladly followed your lead and talked about how she got to the quarters where she was now.

"You know for a fact I have no skill in cooking, the kitchens turned me away as soon as I completely decapitated a live grub. I'm no healer either. The Jade's took one look at my calloused hands and pointed toward the door. My skills are in diplomacy and combat, not anything indoors. There was mention of sending me outside to do slave work," it was here you accidentally interrupted her with a gasp. Horrified, you covered your mouth, waiting for her to continue. She arched a curved brow before continuing."Anyway, there was talk of me doing slave work outside the hive, but the risk of me running was too high. The only option left for me was cleaning, and the legislacerators are still out on that verdict."

She told you there was no skill involved with cleaning, you just had to do a good and through job. However, it was mind numbing work and she had no taste for it. You wholeheartedly agreed with her. You told her about when you first came here, being taken from your world and escaping certain death. The first thing they did was shove a scrub brush in your hands.

Auriga looked intrigued as you spoke to her about your early life here.

"What was it like?" she asked.

"Terrifying. I felt so paranoid and alone. There was nobody I could really talk to." your memories of back then felt so distant, it honestly felt like watching a film of another person's life.

She stopped you, her eyes wide and wistful.

"No, no. Your world. Before you came here, what was it like?"

You contemplated her question, rolling it around in your mind. What was Earth, as a summary? What was your home in its entirety?

What could you tell her?

Your guardian in all their quirky splendor? They never did fail to cheer you up when life got you down. You were so tearful when you left them to go to college. They used to make the best cocoa at your family's vacation home up north. 

Should you tell her about your siblings? Twins, identical in every way. Both loud and excitable. Every emotion they had was intense and dramatic. They too were tearful whenever you left to pursue a higher education. You were distant with them in your later years, and it's one of your deepest regrets. Their identities were slowly being erased from your memory. You can't even remember their faces.

You hadn't thought of your family in so long.

You wondered how they was doing now.

Auriga was giving a concerned look your way. It wasn't until you felt drops on your folded hands did you realize you were crying. Embarrassed, you rubbed the back of your hands across your eyes. That only served to smear the tears, giving your face an unattractive shine.

Were they aware of your disappearance? It had been so long since you had contact with them. A part of you hoped they didn't know. Maybe the abrupt destruction of your town went unnoticed, and they lived blissfully unaware. If they did know, you didn't want to think of them grieving over you.

Without warning, Auriga laid a tentative hand on your shoulder.

The sudden comfort was uncharacteristic of the she-troll, and a sudden seed of guilt blossomed in your stomach. Here she was in a strange environment, her home burned to ground and not a full day since she almost murdered. You needed to be comforting _her._

You remembered what it like to be new here, you wouldn't wish that same fate on anybody. It was a moral duty to aid and console her in this time of need.

"I'll take it that it wasn't very good to you." she said softly, giving your shoulder a gentle pat.

What?

Oh, her question. She wanted to know what Earth was like.

"No, no. It was wonderful, Auriga. More wonderful than you could ever know." your voice hitched through the narrow passage of your throat. Your fingers curled around the fabric of your sleeves. If you wanted to tell her how incredible your old home was, you had to stop crying first.

Auriga perked her ears in obvious interest.

"There is no such thing as a hemospectrum on earth. In my short life, I had never seen a murder nor had I been engaged in any fights. Life was peaceful. I lived in a small town with my family until I left for college. My existence is probably the most monotone you could get, but I try not to think too much about it for obvious reasons," you gesture to your face and release a self-deprecating, wet, chuckle.

Filled with curiosity, she asks for details, unable to comprehend tranquil environment you inhabited. What was "cah-ledge"? What was "towhn"? 

So you both talked. She asks and you answer. You still blubber like a fool, but it gives Auriga good practice in consoling you. Her wide-eyed expression almost makes the tears worth it.

You didn't know how long the both of you talked, but you distinctly remembered the light shining through the window changing from black to a soft shade of blue.

Just before you about regale Auriga about the great ice skating mishap of '11, your conversations was interrupted by a tall troll wearing a green hat standing in the doorway. They growled softly in your direction. The didn't appear to be very threatening though, and judging by the mop in their hand, they were here for Auriga.

The aforementioned she-troll groaned dramatically. She gave you a look and mouthed the words 'duty calls' as she rose with unnecessarily fussy complaints. The troll in the doorway gave her a look before nodding respectfully in your direction.

Feeling awkward knowing you looked like an emotional mess, you hid your face and gave a shy wave in return.

Before Auriga could take her leave, she turned to you. With more pomp than the situation required, she said, "Thanks for the feels-jam! I'll see you soon!"

You gave a wave to her too.

With nothing left to do in empty quarters, you snuck out of the servants' wing, all the while wondering what a "feels-jam" was.

. . . 

With no Auriga to distract you, Dualscar once again conquered your head.

You had managed to smother your emotions a while ago, thank goodness, but the feeling of dry tears still clung to your damp cheeks.

The Jades had warned you of overexerting yourself, but you did not want to go back to Kurloz's room for fear of him seeing you. As if he didn't think you were weak already. You could just imagine his reaction now, he'd take one look at you and start rubbing his temples at your emotional ass. You couldn't blame him.

So instead, you'd taken to wondering the halls. A soothing stroll to quell the questions in your mind. Dualscar was a slithering coil around your heart that needed to be dealt with as soon as humanly possible.

_I had motherfuckin' invited someone to stay at the hive for a couple of cycles. Hopefully, they won't hinder our wicked celebrating._

His guest. Dualscar. Time was ticking.

Should you tell him what happened in your prophecy? Would Kurloz understand? You had no idea of the relationship between the two trolls.

In your dream, they seemed coarse. However, you'd seen friendships held together with less. Kurloz dealt with Dualscar in a casual, uncaring fashion. It would not be much of a stretch to assume that their relationship wasn't all biting comments and hissed insults. Kurloz might take offense if you were to tell him he would murder the stiff purpleblood. The thought made you shudder.

Then again, what if you were completely off the mark? What if they loathed each other? It certainly seemed like it in the dream, but looks can be deceiving. If they loathed each other, why would Kurloz invite him as a guest to his hive?

Halfway through your stroll, you had managed to find yourself in the main foyer. Knowing this to be a plaice where many servants frequented, you turned on your heel to go to the west wing. You didn't want _anybody_ to see your face at the moment.

However, before you could scurry out of sight, a sharp, feminine voice bounced off the walls. It was unabashedly curious and made you cringe for it's volume.

"Well, what have we here?"

For a second, you thought you had bumped into Auriga again, but her voice was not so shrill. The voice behind you and Auriga's were both rough and gravelly, but while Auriga's voice boasted a commanding undertone, this one had a mischievous cadence which made goosebumps rise along your neck. You couldn't help but feel on the spot.

In the midst of turning around, the owner of the voice approached you.

The first thing you noticed was her garish attire. You never considered yourself one for fashion, but you knew for a fact that neon and skin-tight leather was not a very flattering combination.

The tall she-troll was wearing a teal body suit with a collared, ruby, vest that delved to the top of her ribs with matching red gloves. Her skirt, of the same hue, only reached to her knees and was slitted up the sides. In her right hand, she gripped a white walking cane with a beastly head. The odd, tinted glasses that perched precariously above her twitching nose, was the cherry on top of the aquamarine frosted cake that was this troll's ludicrous fashion sense.

You honestly did not know what to make of her. What on earth was she doing in Kurloz's hive? She looked too extravagant to be a servant.

She did not know what to make of your either, but she seemed more enthusiastic about your existence than you were hers.

So much so, she darted toward you, arms outstretched with the words, "Is that red I smell?" on her excited lips.

Before your self-preservation could kick in, giving you the chance to make your escape, she picked you up by your sides, and immediately buried her nose in your hair.

Your ribs immediately protested at the contact. The aching sensation flooding your body wracked your system in instantaneous tremors as your blood leaked through fresh bandages. In response, your bottled emotions erupted as tears cascaded down your cheeks as a new wave of curdling agony pulsated throughout your body. The muscles inside contracted in an attempt to stop the internal bleeding the pressure caused, but it was no use as the terribly dressed troll continued to hold you. 

Summoning a tremendous amount of effort, you tried to shove the overzealous she-troll away from you. She only responded by adjusting her grip and connecting her nose with your pulse point. Your throbbing ears thought you could hear her chuckling dazedly. The adjustment landed her hands squarely against your aching middle as your feet dangled in the air like a doll's. 

Helpless, and feeling slightly violated, you screamed as loud as your lungs would allow. Both out of fright and pure, unadulterated misery.

The shrill hitch in volume had the troll immediately drop you to clutch at her ears. She was relatively close when you had shrieked bloody murder. She let out a muffled whimper as you landed against the cold floor, undoubtedly feeling guilty for the impact.

Unluckily for both you and her, you had landed on your side causing another flash of white hot pain to engulf your side. This time your screaming was cut off by a particularly intense sob, and the troll above you shouting.

"I'm sorry, okay! I wouldn't have even looked at you if I'd known you'd react like this!"

You took it as consolation that she had the manners to at least apologize. Unfortunately, you were still in the hot throes of agony and didn't have the courtesy, nor the cognitive function, to answer her.

She was reaching toward you, a concerned expression written on her face, when the floor had begun to rumble. You could feel the vibrations in stone before you could hear the footsteps that caused them. They were running.

With all the subtly of a train wreck, Kurloz had charged into the foyer, club at the ready. His startling eyes looked ready to slaughter. With swiftness that was uncharacteristic of the brutal giant, he searched about the room for a threat. A paragon of deadly wrath, you wished you could melt into the floor. 

Just this morning he was sleeping underneath you without a care in the world. What a difference a few hours can make. You're crying and bleeding on the ground and he looked ready to ice a motherfucker.

The tension on his face easily transitioned to confusion when he saw you and the lady-troll contritely crouched beside you.

However, his confusion was completely eclipsed by his relief. The club, raised to barbarously slam into his adversary, was lowered without intent to harm.

His eyes suddenly lock on you, and your embarrassment comes back at full force. You didn't want to know what you looked like; a crying, bleeding mess on his floor with a stranger trying (and failing) to soothe you.

Surprisingly, his eyes soften as he made his way over to you both. The she-troll above makes no indication that she plans to move. Her eyes followed the footsteps of Kurloz without contempt or fear. You're not sure if you should feel surprised or terrified by that. What kind of troll doesn't fear Kurloz? Even Dualscar had appeared distress when he began to lose his patience in your dream.

Who was this mysterious she-troll?

Kurloz kneels on your other side, dwarfing both you and teal troll in comparison. However, you can't muster the energy to feel scared when he looks at you that way. The tenderness and compassion in his expression sends a soft emotion thrumming throughout your whole body.

Taking special care not to touch the bandaged areas on your body, he cradled you in his massive arms. It was if he were picking up a baby bird. You would like to think you were not that fragile, but then again he had just witnessed you injured on his floor, you were not going to complain about him handling you with such delicate care.

Besides, it made you feel important.

"What the motherfuck did you do to her, Latula?" He growled softly to the troll beside of you both. His words might have been accusatory, but there was no real malice to them.

Latula, looking very sheepish behind her gaudy glasses, said, "She smelled nice, and I decided to have a closer sniff only for her to start screaming when I picked her up. Is she okay?"

You were thrown for a bit of a loop when she outright admitted she was smelling you. It seems there would still be much to learn about this planet and it's odd culture.

"She was motherfuckin' snatched by a bunch of gutterblood rebels and her escorts were too rough on her sweet self on the way back. She ain't doin' too miraculous, so be gentle with her." Kurloz said, his voice causing his chest to rumble against your body, sending pleasant vibration throughout.

"Sorry, weird hornless thing, I didn't mean to hurt you!" The she-troll looked no too convincing in her apology as she grinned from ear to ear, nose twitching, "So what is she anyway?"

"A motherfuckin' prophet of Mirthful Messiahs." 

"Oh," Latula cooed, stretching out the "o" sound as she glanced between you and Kurloz slyly, "well aren't you going to introduce me to someone so important?"

He spoke your name then tilted his head toward Latula, "This is Neophyte Redglare, otherwise known as our wicked guest who will kickin' it with us these next few cycles."

Oh.

So _she_ was the guest.

Whoops.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Things are getting spicy in this chapter!
> 
> In the next, we'll find out just what Redglare's relationship is with our beloved Kurloz. Oh~
> 
> Please :) leave :) a :) comment :) I'm :) begging :) you :)
> 
> They do give me motivation to write and it shows that you guys appreciate this fic! Thank you, see you next chapter!


	29. A New Ally

Dinner was awkward.

It had always been awkward for you, but one simple detail made that fact a particularly bitter pill to swallow.

Latula had joined the both you and Kurloz in the engagement of your meal.

Both of them were chatting away like noisy birds of paradise. Kurloz was quite the jokester with her and she had no problem bursting into shrill peals of laughter at every opportunity he presented to her. The two of them seemed so comfortable with each other as they laughed and drank. They had an ease with each other that made you nauseous.

You delicately sliced the portions on your plate into chewable pieces. As you glided your knife across your flatware, you wondered just what relationship she had with him. Carrying the tender morsel to your teeth, you tried to sort out an explanation for their camaraderie.

How could this stranger waltz right into a heavily guarded hive and start chatting up its owner like it was nothing?

Envy was slithering up into your throat despite your best efforts to smother it. There was no reason to be envious of a troll you hardly knew. Latula didn't seem to be a threat to you. With a casual posture and a cocked head, she spoke in an open manner most trolls didn't possess. Kurloz seemed quite charmed with her.

Unintentionally, your knife slid across your plate, causing a shrill scraping sound to emit from the silverware. Startled by the noise, you looked at the two trolls you were dining with. Neither of them seemed to notice, Latula was laughing too boisterously to hear anything else. Kurloz had his gazed focused on her.

You heart thudded in realization. That was the real reason you disliked her company, wasn't it? She was a divide between yourself and Kurloz.

The realization made your heart plummet down to your stomach. You gripped your silverware tighter. When had you started seeking his attention instead of cowering away from it? Stabbing another piece with the prongs of your utensil, you avoided looking at the two of them. What did he do for you to feel so possessive over him? Feeling conflicted, you forgot to chew the morsel passing your lips and immediately regretted the action. Your esophagus constricts in the noble effort of trying not to suffocate. You're choking.

Your coughing is vicious and attention grabbing. You hid your face in your elbow under the pretenses of being polite, but really, it was to avoid being humiliated. Your heart burns with the unintentional pressure put on it by your lungs. There is a short whistle at the end of each frame-crushing cough, and you can feel your skin prickle with the feeling of eyes watching you have a fit.

Just when you were craving Kurloz's attention, fate decides to screw you over and give you what you wanted in the worse way possible. How typical.

You're running short on breath, and your eyes were watering. You delicately fan your face in the attempt to quell the bubbling of tears in your eyes. Distinctly you can make out a grey-purple and grey-teal shape stopping their conversation in concern, but they are eclipsed by the goblet of fizzy red liquid sitting adjacent to your plate. The cherry smell alone is enough to make you delirious with want.

Your coughing hadn't settled enough for you to take a drink, but you can't be stopped as your hand grips the stem. Throwing the drink back, you feel your lungs easing and your eyes clear. There are still a few wet spasms as the beverage pours into you, but they subside quickly. The carbonation tickled your tongue and you can't help but groan in relief.

The goblet is set back on the table with a soft thunk. You look at your dinner companions with embarrassed eyes. You hadn't meant to make a spectacle of yourself.

"Are you okay, lil' mama?" Kurloz breaks the silence with furrowed brows and a tight-lipped frown. You meet his eyes and give him a small nod in reaffirmation. A heavy weight was lifted off your heart when you heard his concern. You would have thanked him for it, but Latula spoke first.

"What are you talking about, Kurloz? You of all trolls should know she's probably used to getting choked like that!" She cackled in fiendish delight, but her statement flew completely over your head.

Kurloz, on the other hand completely understood, and wheezed through his teeth in amusement. He gave her a shove afterward in a show of good natured disapproval as he looked at her. For a moment, you thought you saw a bashful, indigo flush underneath his face paint, but that may have been a trick of the light.

It hadn't been the first time you had choked at dinner, a humiliating fact to admit, but how would she know that? You narrowed your eyes as you swirled the liquid in your goblet. The churning red liquid resembled a carbonated whirlpool. You took a rather powerful swig to silence the biting words you could have said.

Kurloz, much to your relief, quickly changed the subject.

"So, Latula, how the motherfuck has the legislaturator buisness been these past perigees?" he rumbled.

Latula brightens like a candle. You could almost see the eyes behind the garish glasses gleam with fervor. She obviously loved her job.

"You wouldn't believe," she extends the last word with a dramatic ending syllable,"the excitement about Mindfang recently! We were so close to catching her during the last slave heist a few cycles ago! And just when we were about to cuff her, she slipped through our grasp like an aquatic slither-beast!"

Your simmering jealousy is suddenly eclipsed by the name on Latula's lips.

_Mindfang_

You stopped swirling your goblet, your hand gripping the stem with a clenched fist. Dualscar had been relaying information about someone named Mindfang. Curious, you continued to listen to Latula trill about this mysterious criminal. You gently lifted your forked utensil to eat, attentively listening to gaudily dressed she-troll talk about her career.

"No one has managed to catch her yet, we were the closest ones in a sweep to see her. She and her crew always disappear before being arrested," she paused to huff exasperatedly,"Ever since her nasty breakup with the Orphaner Dualscar she's been wrecking havoc across land and sea alike."

She would have continued to whisper conspiratorially had you not interrupted her by dropping your utensil with a distracting clatter.

As calmly as your heart would allow, you asked how she came by this information. You considered it a victory not to have stammered.

She folded her hands underneath your chin as she spoke to you. Her smile was wide like a crocodile's. She gave a coy look Kurloz's way before addressing you. "Oh, haven't you heard? Apparently Dualscar wasn't enough to satisfy her. Their separation caused him to double the bounty on her head, you know. Now, the great seducer is on the hunt for another. Perhaps an exotic beauty like yourself might be just her type." Latula purrs, winking salaciously at you.

You were catatonic with surprise. It certainly wasn't the answer you were expecting, nor was it particularly helpful. How were you supposed to fulfill your prophecy with that information?

A low rumble at the head of the table prevented you from making a further inquiry. Kurloz looked none too happy with the bespectacled troll at the moment. It wasn't the good-natured chagrin he displayed earlier. This time, he looked incensed by Latula's comment. While you felt flustered at the most, the curl of his lip showed he'd rather throw Latula across the dining hall than acknowledge her damning statement.

Her smile never wavered as she looked at him. "Goodness Kurloz, if I didn't know any better I would say you actually _believe _that Mindfang would swoop in and steal your prophet away."__

____

The crosshairs of his piercing eyes were locked on grinning troll seated cater-corner to him.

____

"A motherfuckin' occurrence that won't be repeated." He snarled through clenched teeth. You could hardly blame him for such a reaction. Your kidnapping wasn't an experience you wanted to relive either.

____

"You won't have much to worry about then, unless you both like to take long romantic walks on the beach. Mindfang rarely ever does her own dirty work, and even if she does, it's not far from the sea."

____

With less confidence than what you would have liked, you addressed the both of them in an attempt to ease the tension.

____

"I don't think another kidnappiing attempt is going to made, even if what you say is true, Latula."

____

"Oh? What makes you think so?" She says, genuinely intrigued.

____

You take a sparing glance at Kurloz, long enough to see that he too, was interested in what you had to say. "Anyone who would even attempt to do so is incredibly brave," you look at him with more clarity, taking in his bulging muscles and elongated claws, "or incredibly stupid."

____

Latula laughed before wholeheartedly agreeing with you. Kurloz preened under your gaze, obviously pleased by your comment. You bit your lip to keep from laughing at him puffing up like a rooster over you indirectly saying he was viable protection.

____

Then again, you were nearly melting in your chair a minute ago because he asked if you were okay after choking. You had no right to judge him.

____

With tension having been sufficiently defused, the two immediately went back to their jesting.

____

The relapse was like having a door slammed in your face.

____

Your presence, while valuable temporarily, was quickly forgotten in favor of a more interesting conversation. Again, your heart sunk like an anchor down into the depths. His attention was captured again by this stranger who miraculously appeared in his doorway.

____

A rather large part of you hated yourself for envying Latula so much. She clearly wished no ill will towards yourself and had a delightfully boisterous personality. Kurloz enjoyed her company immensely, and who were you to deny his happiness?

____

Picking your fork back up, you finish what's left of your plate, making sure to chew thoroughly this time. The rest of dinner is spent with your silence. The only indication you're there is the clink of your utensil against the plate.

____

____. . .____  

____

After dinner is finished, Kurloz makes the decision to "enjoy our motherfuckin' selves while the moons are high." Neither Latula nor you argue with him.

____

He wasted no time in strolling down the the hallway, knowing fully well that Latula and you would follow him. His wide strides are too fast for you to follow, even if you broke into a sprint. You expect Latula to hurry after him, knowing the tall lady would have ease in catching up with him, but she surprised you by turning around to face you.

____

Even more so, she gently laid a gloved hand on your shoulder. Looking up at her, her usual stretched grin is subdued in a confiding smile. Her nose twitches as her mouth opens to speak to you.

____

"You know, I feel like you're going to be a good for him." 

____

Her arm slid down your shoulder to your upper arm. With a gentle tug, she encourages you to walk along her side as she drops her hand. With the other, she gripped her white cane as it sweeps the floor. You made sure to avoid getting in its way.

____

She continued.

____

"You have a sweet personality, if earlier was any indication. It is a rare thing to find someone like you. And I don't mean your appearance. I doubt either Kurloz nor I will meet someone like you again."

____

You felt flattered, but you couldn't but wonder where she was going with this.

____

"That being said, you need to be on your guard. I noticed you were interested in Mindfang earlier and I have to warn you, whatever you're seeking, it is not worth the danger you'll encounter. Kurloz cares for you too much to let you get hurt."

____

Your head stutters as you processed her words. It was _because _of Kurloz that you were doing this. Whether or not you encountered Mindfang was of no importance to you. You just needed to find Dualscar. The Messiahs were counting on you.__

______ _ _

"You are a wonderful . . ." she hesitates, her nose twitching again," . . . non-troll. And I must say, if Kurloz had not already filled the position, I might have considered seeking a moiraillegence with you." She shows her pointed teeth again in a broad smile again as your eyebrows raise in shock. Oh.

______ _ _

Her smile trickles into giggles as she walked with you. You don't know why she's so happy, but you know why you are.

______ _ _

The awkward atmosphere had disappeared.

______ _ _

 

______ _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ALRIGHT. Another chapter under my belt.
> 
> Things are going to pick up here real soon guys. We're talking drama. We're talking excitement. We're talking new characters. We're talking DEATH.
> 
> Who's death? You'll just have to wait and find out. :)
> 
> Please leave a comment if you enjoyed! I read and appreciate every one of them.


	30. A Revelation

Many nights were spent with the boisterous Latula. Drinking, running about the hive, and gorging yourselves on lavish food were all in accordance to your companions' decrees. The three of you enjoyed yourselves with as much splendor as you could tolerate.

Ever since it was discovered Latula had no romantic inclination toward Kurloz, the tension had eased considerably. You now felt free to joke along with the two. You even joined her in teasing Kurloz on occasion. With Latula being the trollian equivalent of a lawyer, she never hesitated in mocking your poor Kurloz with skill that only came from practice in the courtroom. You felt kind of bad for ganging up on him, especially when Latula made fun of him for things you didn't understand. Like "you guys must have a lot of fun in the respiteblock, her flesh prongs are so soft" and "her chitinous windhole is so frail, you'll kill the poor thing if you try anything too 'adventurous.'" All were accompanied by a playful grin, and Kurloz looking unamused and flustered at her effrontery.

Despite her relentless jeers, Kurloz had an appreciation for the rowdy troll. Latula had livened up this place more than you'd thought possible. So when it was time for her to leave, it felt like you were saying goodbye to a dear friend.

On your way to the door, Latula had unceremoniously tugged you to the side. When Kurloz raised questions, she gave him a short retort that what she needed to say was important. Not willing to let you out his sight, he stood a distance away from the two of you. aAbrooding, protective, powerhouse that was ready to jump at a moments notice.

Hidden in the entrance of a dark hallway, what little light there was glinted off of her glasses ominously. Her wide smile was erased by the tense line hiding her teeth. Her hand on your shoulder only further accentuated that she was less than thrilled about this impending conversation.

"Do you remember what I told you about Mindfang?" Her rough voice had lowered to a grumbling whisper.

You nodded. Latula had warned you of the troll lurking in dangerous waters. However, the aforementioned troll had ties to someone you desperately needed to get a hold of. A white domino to begin a long line of falling; Dualscar.

According to the Messiahs, he was needed to help complete a prophecy of yours. The unfortunate aristocrat needed to die. Preferably by the hand of Kurloz himself.

In order for all of this to happen though, you needed to get Dualscar to the hive in order for this cosmic event to start.

"There are dangerous things out there. You must promise me you'll be careful," she sneaks a worried glance over to Kurloz, "Even if you never meet her, there are still malicious trolls who wouldn't hesitate to hurt you. You never know who to trust."

If Latula only knew how close her words hit. A brief image of a ruined face appeared in your mind only to be whisked away by your tender heart. You tried not to flinch.

"Even so, not all of us are bad," she took her hand off your shoulder to reach under the collar of her obnoxiously teal suit. From inside the sturdy fabric, she pulled out a silver chain with a single charm dangling from the front.

The charm depicted two circles with their own curved line. The respective lines would have been parallel if not for their slight outward slop stopping just short of meeting the other circle. It was a fairly simple symbol, but from the way Latula held it, the charm must have had unimaginable importance.

Pulling the chain over her chin and past her horns, she took your hand and placed the necklace in your palm before closing your fingers around it.

"The Subjugglators have commissioned me to trace the whereabouts of Mindfang. I may not return. This necklace represents somebody who believed that all trolls have good in them, regardless of their status," she looked to Kurloz again, who still stood with his arms crossed, watching the two of you suspiciously. Latula continued, her already throaty voice straining with the effort to get her next words out.

"It's something you can remember me by."

You're sure your face hid nothing. It was an affectionate notion if nothing else. You didn't realize you meant that much to the bizarrely endearing troll to trapeze into your life.

You asked if she had given anything to her moirail, Kurloz.

"Pfft. He has plenty to remember me by. There's enough memories in this hive to last his entire lifetime. Hey, if I come back, remind me to tell you what I got him for the last twelfth perigee," she cackled lowly, lost in a memory.

You smile at her. Unfurling your hand, you looked at the charm again. The silver glinted in the light. You'd never been a jewelry person before, but the charm really was quite lovely, if not a little odd. Exactly like a Latula.

"Thank you, Latula. I will treasure it forever," you gently part the chain and curl the silver links around your neck, tucking the charm under your clothes. It's cool against your skin.

She gives you mimicry of her usual boisterous grin. You really are going to miss her.

"Oh, and just between you and me, we don't tell Kurloz about this, okay?" She holds a finger up to her lips. You give a light chuckle yourself and copy her action.

"Neophyte Redglare?" Both of your heads turn to see a servant approaching. He kept his head bowed demurely, and you noticed he smelled of thyme, "your things are ready."

Latula looks at you one last time, her head tilted fondly. The servant gestured for her to follow him. Without another word, she did as he asked.

The click of her shoes against the floor signaled that this would be the last time you saw her for a long while.

You tried to ignore the dull ache in your heart.

Goodbye, new friend.

. . .

When Kurloz and yourself went to bed that morning, he had asked what Latula and you were "getting your wicked chat on about."

You could feel the cool metal of the charm against your skin, a warning not to tell Kurloz about your earlier conversation. It felt wrong to withhold the truth from him, but it would be a violation of Latula's trust if you did tell him. So with less subtly than you would have preferred, you changed the conversation.

"She's trying to be a busybody." It wasn't technically a lie. She did seemed almost too enthusiastic about pairing you up with her moirail. Fortunately for her, you were just as enthused.

He turned so he could face you better. His drowsy expression combined with the furrow of his eyebrows made him look surprisingly adorable.

"What the motherfuck is a 'busybody'?" he grumbled sleepily.

You laughed affectionately and explained it to him before promptly falling asleep.

. . .

The next few nights brought with it excruciating stagnation.

Latula was only here for a few days, but her unpredictability made them bleed into each other like watercolor. Time meant nothing with her here. Just this evening you had walked the halls for what felt like several hours. When you checked the moons, they were only a millimeter from where they were when you had last seen them. The hours seemed to stretch on for millennia with nothing to occupy your time anymore.

You complained as such to Auriga, who was running her hands through your hair. It had been quite a while since you had talked to her. You had been meaning to talk to her about the charm Latula gave you, but fate had other plans.

The higher ranking servants had been making sure she kept busy. The hive was massive, and it needed cleaned on a nightly basis. You remembered all too well the days of trying your hardest to scrub dubious stains out of tapestries and stone alike. It was grueling work, but there was always some sort of satisfaction to be found in cleaning. Perhaps Auriga thought so too.

You had tried before to visit her. You thought she'd appreciate the company. Remembering the crippling loneliness of your early days here produced an ill feeling when you thought of her experiencing such things. It had been hell here before you met . . . no. You're not going to think about him. You will not think of him.

You had quite the rude awakening when Auriga's superior told you that her work must go undisturbed. When you tried to argue they turned you away, much to your chagrin. And so on the days went until you saw her again.

When you did meet up with her (on one of her rare nights off), she was delighted to see you and immediately embraced you upon approach.

It was like a balm to your soul. You missed your friend, how could you not hug her? Latula's presence may had been fun and exciting, but nothing could compare to the camaraderie you and Auriga had built after your hardships together.

"I've never seen hair like yours," she murmured as she twirled a strand around her finger. "Troll hair is coarse and tangly, not at all like this."

You told her that human hair came in all different shades and textures, and laughed at her awestruck expression. She begged you to give examples while indulgently running her gentle claws over your scalp. You gave a hum as you pondered.

"Well, there are some humans who have have their hair in tight coils and thick curls. There are others who have it in colors like brown and orange and cream. Most people I know covet the cream color. My guardian's hair was silver, and my siblings and I used to tease them about it all the time." You smiled fondly when thinking about those memories. The three of you were quite mischievous.

"Why would you tease them for the color of their hair?" she grated inquisitively.

"When humans age their hair turns grey," you responded, unprepared for how low her jaw dropped. You snickered at her, pushing her mandible back to the rest of her mouth.

"So wait, how old would they have to be for their hair to start turning grey?" she pulled her hands out of your hair to turn around and face you.

Knowing that Alternia used different measurements of time than Earth did, you do the math in your head. You sorted and churned out the appropriate equations as you came to a conclusion."My guardian was around . . . twenty sweeps when their hair started turning. Then again, they did have a stressful career."

Auriga blinked at you slowly. "How . . . how long is a human's life span?"

You do some more math, rolling the numbers around in your head like a ball of clay, "it would be around . . . 40 sweeps on average."

Auriga is silent for a long while. "Oh," she says, muted. Her energy from earlier had dissipated. She didn't look sad, she just looked . . . disquiet.

"Do trolls have different life spans or something?" you asked, genuinely curious and hoping to bring her spirits back.

"Yeah, it depends on the hemospectrum though." She murmured, low and distant, heterochromatic eyes wavering back and forth. It appeared your efforts were unsuccessful.

"Oh, well then, how long's your life?" you asked, trying again.

"A mustardblood's life lasts around 25 sweeps," she kept her head down when she spoke.

You blinked, taken at back by her answer. That definitely explained why she was so subdued. 25 sweeps? Her lifespan was but half of yours! Your hands started shaking as you thought about the differences. How long did time seem to her? How long did that time compare to yours? Were hours to her reduced to mere minutes with you? The thought made you dizzy. No wonder she was so happy to see you.

You started thinking further. Lifespans depended on the hemospectrum. If that was the case, how long was Kurloz's life? A part of you didn't want to know the answer. But another part was too curious to let the answer pass you by.

"How long is a purpleblood's life?"

Auriga looked up from her lap, shrugging. She took a deep breath, her shoulders shaking raggedly on the exhale. "I don't know for sure. Some have told me they can live up to 70,000 sweeps."

The world had shrunken to a single sentence spoken in a raspy voice.

70,000 sweeps? You reach up to your chest to place a palm over your frantically beating heart. _70,000?_ You multiply, once to be sure and another just because you couldn't wrap your feeble head around the concept. 140,000 years. Kurloz's life was longer than every empire in human history.

If you weren't already sitting down you might as well have fallen over. You had never thought of such a possibility as your life being so insignificantly short compared to his. Like a summer cicada.

You thought of your own hair turning grey like your guardian's while Kurloz remained the same. You thought of your bones turning brittle and being unable to walk without his help. You thought of your memories losing their hold and being unable to recognize Latula, Auriga, and even Kurloz himself. The thought sent a heavy, terrible, ache down through your soul.

What would the Messiahs think if you died before you could fulfill your own prophecy? They were gods! They probably lived forever.

 _". . . FEAR NOT, LIL MAMA, AS LONG AS YOUR MIRACULOUS MISSION STAY INCOMPLETE, YOU HAVE IMMORTALITY AS LONG AS PROPHECY IS UNFULFILLED,"_ a voice echoed from the distant recesses from your mind.

A sudden realization shook you to your core.

The Messiahs.

They could be the key to a long, untroubled existence by Kurloz's side. No longer would you have to worry about the time you both had together. No longer would you have to worry about your life being just a blink in his long life.

But this would only be promised if you staved off the prophecy you were destined to complete.

The choice was instantaneous.

Suddenly, the domino piece that was Dualscar stayed completely upright. Your finger, ever ready to push him over, ever ready to start an unstoppable chain, had left the game completely.

Dualscar could wait. Your prophecy could wait.

Your time on this planet was infinite, and you were going to spend it wisely.

Auriga and you talked for several more hours. You managed to bring her energy back piece by piece. Every tidbit of Earth culture you dropped, her ears seemed to perk up more. You wished you could have captured the look on her face whenever you told her about the food. She seemed especially fond of the idea of cotton candy. "It must be lovely eating a cloud," she expressed, dreamily. You giggled at her. Anything sweet she was instantly all over. An irony you considered hilarious. This brilliant, battle-hardened, ex-general thrilled by the prospect of something sugary.

When you bid your friend farewell, you walked straight to Kurloz. You would have normally taken your time strolling about the lengthy corridors, you couldn't help but pick up the pace this time around. After understanding what you could have done and how it would have taken away your eternity, any second away from Kurloz is a second too long.

You are all but running down the cold staircase to him when the moons bid the planet adieu.

In your rush to be by his side, you forgot to ask Auriga about the gifted silver chain around your throat. The meaning would eclipse your mind another night.


	31. A Little Black Box

You noticed something was awry from the moment the moonrise touched your face. 

The muscled forearms wrapped around you held tight, but they shook with abrupt tremors. The breathing chest behind you kept hitching in an odd rhythm that shuddered on the grumbling exhale. Even the soft, icy breath behind you had simmered to a humid temperature. Occasionally, an uncomfortable groan would escape his mouth, warranting concern on your part. The smell in the air was suffocating and too warm, almost like an occupied hospital ward. 

Your mind was muddled with sleep, but the subtle disturbances behind you was enough to break the haze of slumber. 

Something was wrong with Kurloz.

Doing an undignified wiggle to adjust yourself in his python-esque embrace, you turned to face him. A part of you was fearful of what was troubling him, for what could befall a giant such as Kurloz? However, your fear was an unmatched opponent against your worry and curiosity.

Sleep should have relaxed his features, but they were tense with a troubled mind and body. His brows were knitted together as an indication. He let out a hoarse growl as you pried his arms from around you. You felt penitent for doing so, but you needed to get to the bottom of this.

Sitting up, you crawled closer Kurloz's head. You placed both palms on either side of his face. The smooth texture of his face paint could not disguise the alarming temperature of his skin. His forehead and neck gave you the same result: feverish, sweaty, and unresponsive.

He was definitely sick.

Immediately your heart swelled with sympathy. Poor guy. Brushing some strands of hair out of his face, you gave a hum of concern. He let out an incomprehensible mumble at the action. You imagined he must have been feeling awful.

It was just your luck. You had finally decided that you genuinely wanted to spend time with him and he decides to get himself sick. Didn't he realize you could have unknowingly thrown your life away? And for what? Some prophecy you had eternity to complete? 

You had more important things to think about.

Threading your fingers through his hair, you tried to remember the last time you had been sick. It had been a while. You liked to brag that you had a pretty healthy immune system. On the rare occasion you did fall ill, your guardian would make you a warm bowl of soup and soothe you with cozy blankets and medicine. Well, the medicine was your least favorite part, but it was the key to the restoration of your health.

You could almost feel the lightbulb over your head.

What could be more adoring than someone to tending to him while he was sick? More specifically, _you_ tending to him while he was sick. While you doubted he wanted blankets, he didn't really use them in the first place, his soaring temperature was a definite indication he needed medicine and plenty of fluids. You were a genius.

Untangling your hand from Kurloz's coarse locks, you climbed off the bed, doing your best to leave him undisturbed. The jump from the surface of the bed to the floor sent a shot of pain through your ankles, but the pain was overlapped by a sense a domestic responsibility. 

First things first, you needed to visit the Jades. The resident healers would obviously know much more about troll physiology, and would have all the necessary remedies for an ailing Kurloz. Medicine was the first thing on your mental list of things to get. Afterward, you could go to the kitchen to see if they had any sick food. Soup was preferable.

With a determined stride, you made your way to the servants' quarters. The stone floor was still warm from the sun's farewell an hour ago. The soft patter of your feet was the only sound to echo throughout the hive. It was too early for the servants to be awake, so you enjoyed the rarity of tranquility while it existed.

The silence was almost jarring. You were so used the hustle and bustle of the hive during the prime hours of the night, it felt a touch peculiar to have it be so quiet. It was like a hospital. One never saw hospitals empty.

Still, you didn't break your stride. You were able enjoy the silence and keep a brisk pace simultaneously; there was no need to waste time. Kurloz needed to get better as soon as possible. You had no idea what troll illnesses consisted of, but if they were anything like human illnesses, he was going to be delirious and miserable for a while. It was better to start now so he can recover as soon as possible. You estimated he'd only be sick for a few days before returning to normal if all went according to plan.

Upon arrival at the Jades' quarters, you were surprised to find the door unlocked. The hinges opened with no struggle and you almost fell on the floor with your overestimation of how much force the door would need.

Inside, the Jades slept on their mats. They were higher quality than the straw one you were given when you first came here, but after knowing the soft down of Kurloz's bed, you doubted you go back to sleeping on the floor, regardless of how nice the mat might be.

Lightly stepping into the room, you wondered who should you awaken for this task. Even in the dark, you could tell there were several sleeping Jades. It was safe to assume all of them would be crabby to wake up earlier than necessary. It would be even worse to have someone physically waking them up. This was not going to be pleasant. It was bad enough waking up a human too early, you could only imagine what a troll's reaction would be.

Perusing the dark room, you had seen all of them around the hive in some form or another. In the corner, you recognized the Jade in the black hood who healed you when the winged troll conquered the hive. You remember her brusque bedside manner. Would she be good tending to Kurloz? You knew she did her job well when treating you, perhaps she should be the one you woke up.

Unfortunately, she was all the way across the room from where you were standing. Moreso, there was about a dozen sleeping Jades between you and her, haphazardly packed together like matches in a box. You needed to step over them in order to get to her. A deep breath was taken. This operation was going to need calculation and precision. Hopefully, you had the balance to pull this off.

You avoided the unconscious swipe of an arm with your first footstep. With your second, you nearly tripped on some rolled blankets. Your third? You slammed smack dab on top of a sleeping Jade, bruising your healing ribs.

There went that plan.

The girl you landed on top of shot up like a rocket; her snarl echoed in your ears. You tried to scramble away from her, but the furious Jade seemed ready to tear you limb from limb for the rude awakening. She was having none of your resistance and dragged you back to her with an anchor on both of your arms.

The other Jades in the room had also sprang into awareness to see what the commotion was about. For a solid minute the room was a tornado of thrown blankets and hyperactive confusion. 

"What's going on?!"

"Who's there?" 

"Oh goodness, there's the prophet!"

The healers had quickly realized the source of the disruption. Meanwhile, you were trying not to scream at growling maw right in front of your face. Around you, the same shade of reflective, glowing, green was staring in shock and bewilderment.

"Aquila, put the prophet down!" A shrill voice called out.

Immediately, the shining teeth retreated along with the hands clutching your arms. You took a deep breath in relief. The healers might have had a traditionally nurturing role, but they were every bit as vicious as the guards when they wanted to be.

The girl you fell on top of, Aquila, looked contrite as she finally got a good look at you. You saw the silhouette of her arm reach up to scratch the back of her neck in embarrassment.

"Er. . . I'm sorry. My instincts kicked in. Y'know, you're asleep and vulnerable and you feel something slam into you, you kind lose it a little, know what I mean?"

You didn't, but then again, you weren't a troll. Nevertheless, you knew how to be sympathetic, and you gave a small nod in understanding. Her shoulders sagged in relief. With a soft smile, you forgave her for the frightening reaction a minute ago. The poor girl probably thought her life was in danger. In a place like this, that must have been the most logical conclusion to come to. Instead of a hulking, blood-lusting savage, however, she got a 24-year-old alien trying her best. 

A frame as slight as yours shook with uncontrollable tremors from the rough experience. Your ribs were not doing so great and the adrenaline had yet to wear off. You felt like a leaf in a gust of wind.

"What brings you here, little one?" You turned your head to the voice that spoke. A spindly troll with brittle horns craned her neck at you, waiting for an answer.

You scramble from your sitting position; your legs shook from the effort. The still sitting Jade's waited for your answer. They were curious but willing to listen.

"The Grand Highblood is sick. I need one of you to help me cure him," you make sure to give Kurloz his proper title, you think they would feel scandalized otherwise.

The look amongst one another, their expressions shifting. The room is too dark to distinguish their faces, but the tension in the room had risen considerably.

"What were his symptoms?" The spindly troll speaks again.

You are silent for a minute, listing all the ailments you could remember in your head. To your knowledge, he had the Alternian equivalent of a cold. You explain as such to the surrounding healers.

Again, they look at one another. The spindly troll speaks again.

"Aquila, you can go with her to see what The Grand Highblood has."

"What? Why me?!" Aquila exclaims, gesturing to herself.

"She chose you, didn't she?" The spindly troll asks.

"But she . . . " Aquila sputters, this time gesturing between you and herself.

"Hurry now. The sooner you go, the sooner the rest of us can get some sleep," the spindles troll grumbled as she pulled her covers over her head, leaving no room for discussion.

The rest followed her example. With small mumbles of agreement, they curled under their blankets in cluster of impenetrable chrysalises. Soon, the only mat uncovered was Aquila's own. A part of you felt bad, but you knew you needed help if you wanted Kurloz to get better.

Aquila rose from her mat, picking up a little box beside her mat. You didn't miss the micro-actions that betrayed her stress. Sighing exasperatedly, she stalked toward the door; she did a much better job avoiding the sleeping bodies than you did. You followed, gracelessly trying to emulate her easy navigation.

She held open the door for you with unexpected courtesy. It surprised you. After falling on top of her and giving her a sudden, and unwanted, wake-up call, the civility threw you off. Perhaps there was more kindness to this Jade than previously thought. She was certainly better tempered than the one who treated your injuries all those cycles ago.

You thanked her, watching the tension of her silhouette lessen slightly. 

She closed the door with a finalized click. Turning to face you, you were startled by the features that emerged into the light. The room the Jades slept in was comfortably dark for sleep, and you were sure trolls could see fine in the limited lighting, but your eyes struggled to capture anything more than black silhouettes. Now, in the glowing two moons, you took in Aquila's face in the light.

She was startlingly gorgeous.

Her sharp, angular features were picturesque in the open light of the hallway. Each sculpted facet fell in perfect symmetry with its counterpart on the other side of her face. It was an arresting sensation to look at her. Those reflective, almond-shaped eyes were almost as breathtaking as Kurloz's own.

But while his were irises were slitted with the animalistic attribute of an apex predator, hers were round and perceptive like an elegant bird of prey. Those eyes were looking you up and down now. The dramatic arch of her eyebrows had furrowed above the bridge of her nose in obvious concern.

Her jaw dropped to form several succinct syllables through the curve of her plump lips. She paused a minute before doing it again. This time enunciating with crisper words and overemphasized expressions.

It took you longer than you cared to admit to realize she was speaking to you.

"What?" you squeaked, like a fool.

"You need to lead me to the Grand Highblood's quarters?" she responded rhetorically, "Are your hearing ducts, okay? Perhaps I should give you a checkup after we're done with the Highblood," she chuckled pleasantly, without malice. Adjusting her grip on her little box, she swept her arm out toward the direction of quarters where Kurloz stayed.

You led the way to his quarters, hyperaware of the troll behind you keeping pace.

You couldn't remember the last time you encountered someone as attractive as she was. There was one person you met in college with spun gold for hair and a voice like a nightingale, but they were nothing compared to her. Aquila's hair was full and lustrous and she spoke with a mellifluous voice that warbled on her vowels. Apparently, you had a wide variety of taste when it came to beauty.

Your mind wondered back to Kurloz. His appearance was more striking than attractive. Yet, there were parts of him that definitely appealed to you carnally. He had quite the powerful build. When you thought about those broad shoulder and bulging biceps, it was easy to lose focus on the task at hand. That raw animal magnetism was a bit much for you at times, but the care and appreciation he had for you never failed to make you swoon. Now, it was your turn to care for him, and a rather large part of you was thrilled to reciprocate. What you felt for him went deeper than the skin.

You glanced back at Aquila again. She may have be aesthetic pleasing, but Kurloz unequivocally had your heart.

The two of you walked, no conversation, no sound at all except for the patter of your feet and the thump of her shoes against the stone.

When you reached Kurloz's room, it was exactly how you had left it. The door was cracked just wide enough for you to slip through, and Kurloz himself was lying on his back, barely conscious. 

The two of you wondered into the room, Aquila looking significantly more stressed than yourself. Kurloz let out another uncomfortable groan. He mumbled something incomprehensible in his sleep.

Reasonably worried, you climbed unto the bed. Aquila, quite understandably, stayed where she was and looked at you, scandalized by your actions. You ignored her in favor of the sickly troll beside you. From the closer perspective, you noticed his pallor has paled visibly and that the air had thickened further. You turned to Aquila, who was now fiddling with the little black box in her arms. Opening it, she yanked out a thin, black, stick and a glass apparatus with a metal end. Peculiar devices, but you were not about to question the healer's methods.

Looking back at Kurloz, you couldn't help the swell of sympathy building in your chest. Impulsively, you stroked his cheek with a soft hand. You knew he'd appreciate the gesture had he been awake. He let out a low grumbly purr at the action. It sounded a little like the nickname he gave you, but maybe that was just wishful thinking.

"Um . . ." Aquila's sharp eyes were wide as she held her tools in one hand and her box in the other.

You retreated your hand. Aquila probably wouldn't appreciate you hovering over her patient while she was trying to figure out what ailed him. Kurloz made another, much unhappier, noise at the disruption of your touch. It bred conflict in your chest. You looked at Aquila. She still had that dumbfounded look on her face.

"Can I stay beside him while you do the diagnosis?" you ask hopefully, fiddling with your hands. You thought it best to ask her as she never specifically said that your presence would be an inconvenience.

"Oh, um . . . sure. I don't see why not," she walked closer to where his head was lying on the bed, and set her box down. She mumbled to herself as she took the apparatus and hovered it over his forehead. After a few seconds, she moved onto his chest. She had to stretch to cover the entire expanse with her strange device.

When she was finished, she felt the metal ends with her fingertips. Apparently the result was not what she wanted as she clicked her tongue in frustration. Her lips pursed as she set the apparatus back into her box.

"He's definitely warmer than he should be."

"What do you think he has?"

"That's what this," she held up her stick, "if for."

Reaching into her strange box, she pulled out a corked vial of a slimy, opaque substance. Uncorking the container with her teeth, she dipped the the thin stick into the slime, giving it a generous coating.

You tried not be skeptical of a piece wood coated in slime. After experiencing the advanced medicine of Earth, the odd remedies of Alternia took some getting used to. However, you think you would take personal doctors living in your house giving you sticks than the outrageously expensive hospital bills back home.

Aquila looked nervous as she held the flat stick. Her gaze was directed on Kurloz's resting face. With a deep breath, her other hand shakily reached toward his jaw. She let out a frightened whimper when her hand made contact. Feeling pressure on his mandible, Kurloz let out an irritated growl. Aquila snatched her hand back as if she had been burned. She groaned in frustration.

"I have to get this," she gestured to the stick,"in his mouth! But I can't do that if I'm too scared to touch him!" she massaged her temples, pacing back and forth.

Her anxiety was understandable. You knew from first-hand experience that Kurloz ran his hive with an iron fist. A single mistake was liable to get you killed. You remembered your days cleaning; there was always a colorful blood stain to be scrubbed out of the floor or wall. The only being here he seemed to have a soft spot for was you.

"I could try," you offered. You weren't scared of touching him, quite the opposite in fact. If Aquila showed you what to do, then there would be no trouble. She could avoid touching him and you could help her in healing Kurloz. It worked out for everyone, "What do you need to do?"

"Um, well, I need to place the stick under his tongue and keep it there for a few seconds."

That didn't sound to hard. All you had to do was open his mouth.

His tightly closed, fanged mouth.

Well, you did ask to help.

With a determined gleam in your eye, you grabbed his jaw and maxilla and wrenched them open with all your might. Kurloz's eyes fluttered and disturbed growl resounded through his body. Aquila gaped. A small sliver of darkness was seen between two rows of gleaming teeth dripping with saliva.

"Aquila, do it now!"

She closed her own mouth with a short 'click' and slid the coated stick under Kurloz's tongue. She kept a hold of it, bouncing from one foot to the other, absolutely trembling with nerves. Your wrists were killing you. 

"How long do we have to do this again?"

"Just a few more seconds . . ."

Your hands started to shake with tremors of their own. The sliver of darkness between the jagged ends of his teeth were slowly shrinking as the pressure of his mouth overcame what little strength your hands had.

"I can't keep his mouth open for much longer, Aquila." 

"And . . . it's done!" Aquila yanked out the stick and held it up victoriously. 

You immediately released Kurloz face, watching his jaw and the rest of his face reattach. You felt terrible for doing that to him, but you did want him to get better. You wrapped your arms around the strong column of his neck apologetically. You were sure he'd understand if the roles were reversed.

Looking back at Aquila, you noticed a dawning look of horror etching itself unto her face. She was staring at her stick. The colorless slime had turned a hideous shade of chartreuse and was currently dripping down the length of wood into her hand.

"Aquila?" you asked tentatively. The girl looked absolutely shellshocked. You wondered what the change it color meant to warrant such a reaction.

"Can . . . can we talk outside for a minute," she murmured as she wrapped the stick in a clean cloth from her box. Methodically, she set her devices inside and closed it with finalized silence.

A cold chill seeped into your bones. You instinctively clutched Kurloz tighter. What exactly did that stick mean? What was so wrong with him that Aquila needed to take you out into the hall?

You gave another gentle stroke against his cheek before hopping off the bed and following Aquila out of the room. Your heart dropped further and further with every footstep.

Outside, she stood with her hands clasped over her temples, exquisite eyes too lost in thought for you to capture her attention.

"The slime will change color according the what illness is infecting the inhabitant. Red would mean he his bloodpusher was undergoing stress and he had shut down accordingly. He would need guava root in order recuperate. Blue would mean his acid tubes had curled in on themselves. We would need to cut him open in order to heal that. If it were orange-"

"Where are you going with this?"

Aquila looked askance.

"We've only had someone come back with this color once before," she wouldn't meet your gaze, "we tried every remedy in the hive, but by the time we found the right one and gave it to them, they had already died."

"Why is it a problem now? Just give the same remedy to him now that you know what it is," you said. You didn't understand why this was such a problem. If she knew how to treat this, why was she so anxious?

Auriga fiddled with her hands. 

"We . . . we don't have the remedy here," she whispered, almost cowering before you.

"How long would it take for us to get it?" you responded, still unconcerned.

"The Jade who sells it lives in a harbor about a week's journey from here," her voice had quieted by such an amount, you had to strain to hear her.

"And how long does Kurloz have?"

She hesitated.

"About a week." 

You grew still, your heart shriveling inside your ribcage.

She had whispered the words, but they still rang in your ears as if they had been shouted. That was why she was so nervous.

Kurloz was going to die.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lmao. This chapter played out like a medical drama. It had fun with it, hopefully you guys can say the same. Also I went back and changed all the chapter names because I had no idea what I was doing when I made them that long.
> 
> A new character is introduced. She's pretty as hell and she'll be important later.
> 
> So what do y'all think is going to happen next?
> 
> Please leave a comment, they are my life force.


	32. A Precaution

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, I posted this chapter relatively faster than I normally do (it's been about 4 days since I posted the last chapter), so if it's been a while since you read this fic, I recommend going back a chapter.

You wished you had time to process the situation.

You wished you could cry at your hopeless circumstances. You wished you had more time. You wished Kurloz wasn't sick.

You wished a lot of things, but sadly, none of them were coming true.

It was up to you to take matters into your own hands. The clock was ticking down the minutes. With every erratic heartbeat, Kurloz's life was fading away without that remedy. You could scream at the frustrating irony; just when you realized you wanted to spend eternity with him, he had a week to live.

Unless you get this remedy, he will die. And by the Messiahs, if he died, your heart would die with him.

A part of you wanted to pray to them. The Messiahs would no doubt offer you guidance. Yet, you were smart enough to realize that there would be consequences if you gave them any indication that you had abandoned your prophetic duties, albeit temporarily. You wanted their help, but not that much. The deities were comparative to two strict parents with all the power of the cosmos at their fingertips. Unfortunately for you, you had stayed out past curfew and were not looking forward to coming home.

You were on your own. As far as heavenly bodies went.

As for help here? Aquila had already volunteered to go with you on your journey to retrieve the remedy. You felt you had pressured her into it just a tad. It wasn't your fault you had promptly burst into sobs following the diagnosis. It was not your proudest moment, but you would have liked to see someone else keep a stiff upper lip in that situation.

The salt of your tears had not dried, but there was no time to be wasted. So far, you had one person joining your party, but you could think of someone else you wanted. If you knew her well enough, she would assist you without hesitation.

Aquila was a capable healer, there was no doubt in your mind, but this was going to be a long trip and who knew what kind of dangerous encounters you would get into? You needed someone with experience in combat, someone who had experience going on hard, grueling journeys, someone you could trust. You needed Auriga.

You stood outside of her quarters now, hand knocking against the wooden door frantically. You pleaded that she was behind the door. Hopefully, it was one of her rare days off and that she was spending some downtime in her quarters. Please let it be true.

Luck was on your side that day, as the next person to open the door was just the troll you were looking for. 

Auriga opened the door with tired eyes and a sour disposition, but when she saw your disconsolate, tear-stained face, her demeanor immediately changed. Without warning, she pulled you out of the hallway and into her caring embrace. Her affection was so abrupt, it took you a minute to process her actions. 

And all over again, you broke down.

Your crying was loud and muffled as you clung to the stronger troll. You had never been more grateful for her support. The embrace was a balm to your weathered soul. Auriga was more valuable than she could ever imagine. It wasn't the first time you needed her, and in all likelihood, it wouldn't be the last. Never in your life could she be replaced.

Never in your life had it hurt so much to pull away from her.

As much as your heart would love a brief reprieve, you were on a time crunch and you needed to hurry. Not even Auriga's strong shoulders could sway you from the importance of the task at hand. 

She spoke your name in a question, "Are you alright?" she then asked, concern stitched into each syllable. The words were grumbled barely above a whisper.

You shook your head at her. No, nothing was alright, but that's why you were here, wasn't it? You gave her an brief explanation of the events that had transpired. The hiccuping sobs made your words watery and undignified, but judging by the soft stroking of hands up and down your arms, Auriga didn't mind.

When you were finished, her facial expressions had taken a dramatic journey. You could feel the conflicting emotions radiating from her. Without the attachment to Kurloz that you possessed, Auriga must have seen the situation in an entirely different light.

The death of her oppressor? The demise of her people's conqueror? What could be better? Your heart had fallen through your ribcage, aghast of the reality of what you were asking. You were a fool.

What were you thinking? Asking such a request from her, you might as well have just asked her to die for you. Your vision grew blurry again as you realized your situation was hopeless. This was all hopeless. You might as well just leave now to avoid future humiliation. 

Aquila and you would just have to manage on your own.

Before you could break the embrace you were captured in, Auriga had gripped your arms tighter. Not enough to hurt, but enough for you to feel the pressure of her warm palms. Her face was a dark painting of disquiet. She inhaled deeply.

She said your name again, quieter, a thin layer of sadness blanketing your moniker. She looked at you, "I've seen you lose one matespirt before, and I've seen you lose a moirail too. I honestly believe losing him would destroy you. And I care for you too much to let that happen. You stood by me since the rebel encampment burned down, and I think I'd be pretty terrible if I didn't stand by you now."

"So . . . so you'll join me?" you whispered, disbelieving.

"Yes, I'll join you." 

Your knees almost gave out as you ran her words over and over again in your mind. The heart fluttering in your chest beat with an excited intensity that threatened to pound out of your chest. Luck truly was on your side today.

Enthused beyond belief, you shrieked with joy, unintentionally making Auriga flinch. You threw yourself further into her gentle hold, laughing when she gave a grunt of surprise at your delight.

The tears spilled over anyway, but by the smile on both of your faces, the tears were but a deluge of happiness.

"Thank you, Auriga."

. . .

The three of you met in the main foyer to prepare for the journey ahead.

Aquila wore a sturdy leather bag over her shoulder and a soft black hood hiding her luscious locks. She stood as lovely as a sunset as you approached. That gorgeous smile brightened the open room by megawatts. With tidy claws, she gave a friendly wave in your direction. Her waving stopped however, when she noticed a cloaked Auriga following you.

Auriga had come prepared; she donned her old durable boots and a thick black cloak covering her shoulders. The attire brought back memories you had tried and failed to repress. Aquila's mouth thinned in a tense line as she looked between you and your friend.

"So, who might you be?" Aquila asked, cocking her head.

"My name's Auriga. I will be joining you both on your mission to find the Grand Highblood's cure," Auriga crossed her arms, looking confidently at the healer.

Aquila gripped the strap of her bag, "That really won't be necessary, the prophet and I are quite prepared as it is," she said with a tense, polite smile.

You took this moment to speak on Auriga's behalf, "I thought we might need some protection. Plus, I've traveled with her before, she will know what to do if things go awry," you interjected to Aquila, who looked like she was about to 'speak to the manager.'

You gave her a soft smile in hopes that she wouldn't argue. You weren't the best as deescalating situations, but it appeared to have worked as Aquila sighed, pressing her lips together.

"I suppose she can come with us, but I would have preferred we travelled alone. Fewer are faster you know," She said, gesticulating with elegance. You understood her point, but one couldn't exactly travel fast if they were injured or under attack, could they? You weren't in such a hurry that you disregarded your own ability to bring back the remedy.

Auriga would be a precaution against the untold dangers of the planet outside. Not only that, but you trusted the girl more than you did Aquila. Aquila was a charming girl, but you had met her only a few hours ago. Time was the only thing that granted trust in a place like this. You wished you knew that an entire lifetime ago.

You would not make the same mistake again.

Without anymore input from the girls, you commanded the guards to open the door. They did so with stoic faces and polished armor. Outside, the pink forest stood silently under the stars.

The cool breeze of the night rustled your traveling clothes, beckoning you to follow the horizon. Your only hope lay out there.

With both Auriga and Aquila behind you, you followed your footsteps from a million years ago into the bubblegum trees. You only hoped you were fast enough to save Kurloz.

The moons and stars looked down from their home in the heavens, once again watching your story play out before their eyes.


End file.
